The ghost sighs forlornly in your mind. "Who lives here? I could say that everyone comes here sooner or later. But in a place outside of what you know as time, that would be meaningless.
"I could as easily say that no one lives here. After all, this is not a place, as such. And some of those who apparently dwell here, such as myself, are not exactly 'alive.' Not as you mean it, anyway.
"But neither of those answers would tell you what you want to know. I suppose Dave Noelle lives here. Semantics aside, he is the one who built this place. And this is what he calls home.
"The ones who 'live' here, those to whom this 'place' is home, are all the lost ones. The lost minds and the lost souls who don't belong anywhere. They all belong here. They are all welcome here. They are the ones no one else will claim, but here they are a family. Here, each is cherished for what they are, rather than assumed to be what they are not. And here is where they feel at home."
'Tell me about Dave Noelle.'
'Is Dave here?'