One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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So, we went on the haunted tour this evening.

i want to perform
We were supposed to be looking for ghosts, for entities of spirit. But I saw none of these things ... my attention was first drawn to the foot of the stage, where old-fashioned lights had once been placed. And I thought of the building ... and how glad I was that it was still in such good condition. This theatre, I think, is what people see in their mind's eye when they envision themselves behind a rising curtain, seeing only arches and black beyond the bright lights.

I wanted to know where the set of concrete stairs offstage went to ... they appeared to go nowhere, though this is clearly not something that was involved in the original design ... why have a set of stairs that go into nothing? So despite what they said, this theatre must have seen some sort of "upgrade" at one time or another ... when?

lonely home
Sarah, remember the one house we visited, where I couldn't take to bear any more notes on its state after looking at the outside? Walking through the door in the dark, this hall felt like that to me, as though I had been there before. The grit beneath my feet confused me - what was I walking on? Tile? Wood? Some walls had been taken apart to reveal the very structural supports, and paneling peeled and broke off from the ceiling where its own weight became too much.

They stopped in the hallway first, which was dark but for the blue light of the tall, narrow, open window. Next we passed to what was, apparently, a reception room, with a large fireplace. People spoke of orbs and angry spirits, small blond girls and chills, breaking into tears and panic - this was nothing of what I felt. To me, there was no one looking at me angrily, no cold passing from the floor below - it was the aura of the building itself. Simply ... the house was lonely. It had been stripped bare and closed off, boarded up and fenced in. "Caretakers" ...? Only in the sense of preventing total decay, which to me seems cruel. Don't leave it like this ... it would be kinder to let it collapse.

I didn't want to know what they were telling me ... I wanted to know what they weren't saying, which I suppose were details they felt unnecessary for the mood of the evening. I wanted to know the history of the building itself, down to every owner, every restorative or destructive action taken. Why was it abandoned? Why had some of the walls been gutted? Why let something like this fall so far?

a place without time
At first, while we walked through the cemetary in the cold, I cared little ... but coming to the crest of the hill and seeing out over a field, and past that to a different world of electricity and moving cars which existed beyond the line of trees, I felt a swelling uplift in my emotions. This place was beautiful for many different reasons ... and with the exception of our presence, it was a place without our "time." Though we change what is within it ... though the environment will change beyond our time ... it is someplace other than our everyday world.

During and afterwards, everyone was speaking of what they had seen, what they had felt - when I hadn't been affected to any such degree. I had sensed neither great evil nor great sadness from a "spirit" ... the strongest negative reactions I had felt had been to words used by the tourguides. They should not have used "ancient" ... the 1800s are not ancient. If that purse really is so old, why the frickin' hell are you carrying it around in your pocket?? That is not proper treatment for any artifact. And have you tested it? Have you tried to find out about its origins? How do you know that it's so old? An ivory brooch alone is not adequate evidence to prove its age. I will accept that it's old, if you can give me backing for it!

In other news, my jaw still hurts in its oddball little way.
Tags: is your heart in the right place?

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