Anyone else think old hospitals are way more active than cemeteries?

Been thinking about this for a while and honestly yes, completely agree. Old hospitals have that combination of mass trauma, repetitive routine, and sheer volume of deaths over decades that cemeteries just can't match. A cemetery is where bodies end up, but the actual distress happened somewhere else entirely.

The old Victorian workhouse infirmaries are particularly interesting to me. Places where people died largely forgotten, sometimes in quite horrible circumstances, with no family present. That kind of ending seems to leave a stronger imprint than a natural death at home surrounded by loved ones. Purely my own theory but it fits with a lot of what I've read and experienced.

I did a vigil at a decommissioned NHS hospital in West Yorkshire about four years back and the activity in the old surgical wing was more consistent than anything I've encountered in a graveyard. Not necessarily dramatic stuff, just persistent. Footsteps, temperature drops in specific corridors, the feeling of being watched from doorways.

Anyone else noticed that hospitals from the late 1800s seem notably more active than mid 20th century ones? Wondering if building materials play any role in that.

Cemeteries are basically just storage at that point aren't they, all the action happened somewhere else. Went to a decommissioned psychiatric ward near here in Wiltshire last year and I swear the building itself felt wrong before we even got inside, like it was watching us. Has anyone else noticed that hospitals with long corridors seem particularly bad? My mate reck

@StormMoonlit has it right. The body and the personality are two very different things and cemeteries only have the former.

Spent some time researching near-death experience accounts years back and what struck me was how many people described feeling "pulled" back toward the place where the trauma occurred, not where they ended up buried. That lines up with the idea that whatever residual energy or consciousness remains after death is anchored to the location of peak emotional intensity.

Old hospitals tick every box. Decades of fear, pain, hope, grief, all layered on top of each other in teh same corridors day after day. That kind of repetition does something to a place I think. Whether its stone tape theory or something we haven't properly defined yet, the imprint seems to run deeper than in a cemetery where everything is already resolved, in a sense.