Saturday, May 8, 2010

What Dreams May Come...

I remember when I was about twelve or thirteen and my I was talking to my Mother. She used to be so involved with my life, so excited to watch me grow up. Used to dream about my college years, meeting my first love, and watching me become a man. She was saying how I was twelve now and its 1999, so I'll be eighteen in 2005 and that's when she can attend my graduation, which she would always bring up how excited she was to see me walk. She was so excited to see what she believed was my bright future blossom and unfurl. I imagined At that time, I imagined my future really was bright. I had this vivid depiction of an awesome, eventful, meaningful, life changing experience that would stretch across my high school years and reach well into my twenties. I thought it would be like a movie, with ups and downs, twists and turns that ultimately shape myself as a man and who I was going to be. An intricate story lined with heartbreak, enlightenment, love, passion, pain, spiritual epiphany, learning, gaining wisdom, and tranquility.

I imagined that day to be wonderful, the sun to be warm and the sky to be bright. I imagined the look on her face when I accepted my diploma, the single tear of joy that would cascade down her face when she saw me walking through the entrance of adulthood. I imagined that I would become all that she expected of me. I imagined that day to come.

But it didn't. A few years went by, and my Mother passed away.

I had a very unexpected and colorful next few years after. I went to a little college early, did the whole band thing for a while, met people and lived experience that I never thought I would. But it still felt unfulfilled.

I'm now 23 and part of me feels like I'm still waiting for that day, when I'm eighteen years old and waiting in line, wearing some robe and a hat in the shape of a square. Listening to some valedictorian give a speech about ambition and the future. Waiting to accept that look from her that says I can finally grow up.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Ghost hunting...

It would seem I've grown a taste for the unknown and the paranormal. After Byron Inn the group that I went with began to get more interested in scary things and started researching other assumed 'haunted' places online. One place specifically that kept reoccurring was this abandoned school way up in the east side hills of San Jose. Robert along with a few other people said that they knew about this place because people used to buzz about it in his high school in San Jose. From three separate testimonies from different people they all claimed it's scary as sh*t there. Two people said they would never go back and one guy said he felt as if something 'followed' him back. He said he would experience reoccurring nightmares and sometimes would feel a 'presence' pushing down on his chest when he would try to sleep at night.

That information was enough to spook half our friends from even going, but it only intrigued me more. So after work Rebecca, Ryan, Rob, Allan, Allan's brother, Nicole and me left in two cars to San Jose. Once we entered San Jose we found the street that we were supposed to follow. This street went for days. It cut though the majority of San Jose and we eventually began to escalate up the hills on the east side. It was a long and windy road that felt eerie even driving through. We had to literally slow down to about 15mph to accommodate the sharp and sudden turns. After about 20 min. or so the road started to cut into the mountain so we would be in between walls of the hill as if the road was in a ditch, the forest also began to grow much thicker and the trees were growing out of the walls and draped over the road, creating a creepy sort of atmospheric effect.

After about 30 min of winding through the treacherous path they proclaimed to be a road we finally got to this tall hill where the silhouette of a small school lied with its outline illuminated by the backdrop of the moonlight. Just looking at it alone sent a chill through the two cars. At that moment the majority of us decided that we weren't even gonna get out of the car. Not to sound tough guy about it but I was the first to exit the vehicle. The road in front of us was barricaded by a steel fence that had 6, I counted six different pad locks sealing it with a cliche "No Trespassing" sign. The school was diagonally isolated behind this steel fence and another barbed wire fence after that. I convinced Ryan and Allan at least to join me and we approached the menacing school.

We hopped the fence and crawled between the wires of barb and there we were. It looked old, weathered and decrepit. There were holes in the walls exposing the interior were you can see a mosaic blend of different graffiti and tag (common among these deserted "haunted" places). The building itself was elevated on four different stone pillars about 5 feet in the air. So I had to boost myself up on this 2'' by 4'' and hoisted myself through one of the holes. As soon as I entered the building the air felt thicker, almost dampened. It also got a lot colder inside, I could feel as if I wasn't alone as predicable as that sounds and it sent a shiver down my spine. Allan and Ryan followed shortly after and we explored the place. It was quaint and simple, a few small rooms surrounding the larger, main classroom. It seemed very odd to me that there was a tiny school located so far in the middle of nowhere, no surrounding houses or any civilization for that matter. The scariest room was in the back corner, it was the most effected by age. There was weird encryptions and symbols written on the wall, it looked almost cultist. It was about that time we had our fill of adrenaline and decided to leave. We got back to the car and convinced the girls to come up to the school, but they wouldn't walk inside.

After we showed the girls the spot we went back to the cars and started to drive home. We had to drop off Ryan in Livermore where he lives. He mentioned another popular "haunted" place in Livermore that he used to go to called "Rock boy".

It was this place near some warehouse buildings under an overpass where a track of rail roads resided. The story is this kid used to throw rocks against the stone wall of the over pass after school, one day he got hit by a train. The legend has it that if you park under the overpass near the tracks, turn off the car and lights, and wait in silence you can still hear rocks clacking against the wall.

So on the way to his house we decided to stop by this place. We parked, turned off the lights and music, and waited. After about 15 min. of silence I kid you not we started to hear a faint tapping against the stone wall. We all got freaked out a little bit but continued to wait. We heard another tapping noise but just a little louder and irked us more. We were already scared enough to leave but wanted to stay, then, suddenly we heard a loud smash that sounded something like a large stick thrown to the wall closest to us. As expected, we freaked and left post haste.

All in all it was a very eventful night and also very invigorating. I had a blast and am looking forward to our next "Ghost Hunt". Ryan said theres a ghost of a which that dwells in this abandoned building in Alemeda. Sounds fun =)

Btw last night I saw A Day to Remember, August Burns Red, Silverstien, and Enter Shakiri at the Rainbow ballroom in Fresno. I'll elaborate more next blogspot visit. =)

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Tracy, CA, United States
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