What is it that draws one to those places of ancient beauty? Age old remnants of souls who once walked the hallways. Tonight I am blogging from the Menger Hotel in San Antonio, TX. A place rumored to be the most haunted hotel in Texas. A place I was sent to not of my own accord.
I am on the haunted third floor, the floor where the maid cleans and welcomes guests forever. The floor where Sam Houston and Mae West once called home when in this great state.
I have explored and felt all the energies in this awe inspiring, architecturally supreme creature which defies space, time and age. There are very few words that can put the emotions in place. The feelings that overcome you as you walk the stairs and hear him walking curiously behind you, stairs again creaking under invisible feet, but he elusively dips when you turn the camera his way.
Who? Indeed…
The elevator makes me cry. I know I have now walked the path of a heartbroken woman… One who cried her heart out in the elevator before making her way to her room. In fact, the elevator is right outside my door and dings the signal of the thing all night long… Though no one gets out of it. I think this lady is hanging around me, she follows me from the elevator and causes my door lock to mess up; This is an honor of course, but her broken heart, which resembles something close to my own breaking heart is too much to bear, making me stay here and cry with her. We will be lonely and desperate together tonight this ghost and I.
While walking these floors one goes from awestruck, sad, tired, content and angry. It’s easy to pick up the broken hearts of those who have gone before us. Those broken women running from situations that we could never imagine in the year 2018. The secret trysts and arguments that only the walls have seen. The letters sent out from here informing those people where someone was or what happened to a traveler. Those grand and happy souls, full of power and mirth, dancing in the ballroom. The young men who have hung out the windows whistling at pretty girls walking by. The dusty memory of just how long a place like this has been alive. The smell of old and dissipating souls. Possibly places like this are special. Special areas on our Earth.
I feel there is a message for me here and I will leave the voice recorder on tonight. I have four more nights to go and I will keep updating.
I am not hunting ghosts, but I am documenting experiences in this location that holds such a tenuous and glimmering wall between here and there. Might as well, I was sent here by fatuous circumstances…