The Ghosts That Don’t Know They’re Dead

Why the afterlife looks suspiciously like social media.

Every so often a film sneaks back into relevance, not because Hollywood remade it, but because real life caught up to it.

Lately, The Sixth Sense has been whispering again. Maybe it’s the endless scrolling, the performative outrage, or the way people keep haunting old versions of themselves online. Whatever it is, that quiet moment when Bruce Willis realizes he’s the ghost feels less like a twist and more like a mirror.
It’s not about the dead. It’s about us.

We all think ghosts haunt old houses.
Truth is—they haunt their own stories.

Every spirit in The Sixth Sense is stuck replaying a loop: a grievance, a guilt, a script they can’t stop performing.

Sound familiar? Scroll your feed. Same thing—souls refusing to die to their old identities.

Bruce Willis wasn’t “possessed.” He was attached. His ghost didn’t want vengeance; it wanted validation. He needed someone to say, You mattered.
That’s the ego’s last meal.

The child doesn’t fight them. He listens.
That’s what breaks the spell.
Witnessing ends the haunting.

Maybe liberation isn’t escaping the world—it’s finally seeing the stories we’re still starring in.

Because until we do, we’re all half-transparent, arguing with echoes.

Blessed be the ones who stop explaining their pain and start releasing it.
They are the ones who cross over.

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