I have to say that I’ve been drawn to the paranormal, well, ever since I was a kid. This is something that is quite unusual given my usually left-brained nature. Believe me or not, but I used to see apparitions in our family home as a kid. That led me not to be one of those who’d say that “ghosts aren’t real.”

People who have claim to be psychic have always told me that my “third eye” is open. Well, it seemed that way since I was the only one who actually see that ghostly figure around our home before. It even came to a point where it was dangerous for me to drive at night and the wee hours of the morning since I used to stop for or avoid “people” who cross the street only to see vehicles zoom past them. I’m not really sure these days since I’ve stopped seeing apparitions for quite some time now. I think the last time I “saw” one was seeing our dad’s ghost standing at the foot of my bed one All-Soul’s day.

Today, with my left-brain in overdrive, I’m more likely to take the skeptic’s stand as far as paranormal phenomena are concerned. I remember taking that stand when a GMA 7 show interviewed me on my opinion for their Halloween special as their “paranormal expert.” Still, I’d like to keep an open mind. I still think that there’s some greater force out there. As for Santa Claus, well, parents spoiled that experience for us when we were kids.

I recently stumbled upon this crazy ghost show – Ghost Adventures. Similar to those Ghost Hunters series but they introduced a new twist where, instead of going to a location several times, the investigators lock themselves in a location for a whole night and provoke the spirits. They’ve gotten some pretty good “evidence.” Rigged or not, I think it’s good TV. Not to mention the often bordering-on-gay (no offense, gay friends) comments from three guys in black muscle shirts. Somehow I miss the first Halloween specials of Magandang Gabi Bayan.

Ghost Adventures riled my curiosity up again on these things. Yesterday, Jojo and I toyed around going to Baguio and do some ghost hunting of our own – something that has always came up when we veer into the subject of “vacations.” I wonder why we initially think of that rather than hit the beach and do some bikini inspections.

Perhaps it’s the natural draw of the thrill of horror that we don’t want to live vicariously. Or perhaps our own histories of experiencing the unexplained. Hey, if even Shakespeare toyed with the idea, then why shouldn’t I?

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