928

it's not a good feeling. this place is strangely creepy and it doesn't help that a picture of bowie looking at himself in the mirror hangs above my head. the grill at the bottom of my bathroom door hints at an older decade, and as i change out of my clothes i begin to wonder what lurked behind them sixty years ago. i do this as fast as possible.

modernity meets age, scent of paint lingers throughout the dark narrow halls. closed off sections fortell refurbishment but also hidden pasts. you could easily get lost.

a cabinet drawer blocks an eerie compartment in the wall right next to my head. why a hole is there is beyond my comprehension, but hopefully it serves a maintenance purpose that i'm not aware of. nevertheless, i'm not sure i'll be getting any sleep tonight.

the 9th floor is infamous. though it brings chills, i'm still curious. i dare not go alone but i'm still tempted to. our earlier attempt was cut short because closed doors, a banging elevator door, and a hole in the wall (yet again) gave us signs of "no entry". it definitely felt abandoned.

passing through, i avoid any type of mirror or reflections. this is hard because mirrors and reflections are at every turn. i find myself keeping a persistent eye on the glazed tile floors.

2 floors below 9 now. good night monty .