Oh, I remember a rather nice thread on 4ch about these. Splendid to see that there's still more creeping up.

That's pretty cool, but all I could think of was
>psychogeography

It is now my dream to become a psychogeographer and study the psychology of rocks and minerals. Seriously. I'm going to have a funny couch and everything.

>>9233
Not really what psychogeography's about, but hell, go for it! : D

>>9233
Would that not be geopsychology?

Cool site. I love these log/story type sites.

I didn’t even realise it was so widespread in Glasgow. I thought I was the only one it had happened to. But if, like you say, other people have seen the same thing, I want them to know that they’re not the only ones.

I was sitting in my living room at about four or five in the afternoon. It wasn’t dark, but there was something in the air… I kept getting that shiver you get all over your arms and back when there’s something weird on your mind, you know? Like when you’ve started to scare yourself into thinking that a stranger’s in your house, or that you’re being watched. I thought it was just cabin fever from being in the house all day. I got up from the couch, turned towards the kitchen, and caught sight of something at the window.

Eyes looking in. That’s what I remember. A face up looking at me through my window. It looked like it was screaming, but there was no sound. I could actually feel my heartbeat all over me like I was hearing it. I felt my blood in every part of my body, and it hurt. It throbbed. A screaming face at the window, dead, white eyes focused on mine. Its mouth agape, as though seeing something awful in my eyes. I feel it screaming through my blood, burning up in my eyes and face.

Then it was gone. I don’t know how. I didn’t see it move. I started to have a panic attack, I wondered if I’d blacked out and it got inside my house. In a way it was – I couldn’t move about the house without thinking about it appearing somewhere else. My bedroom window at night, just as I go to close the curtains. In the shadows of the cupboard. Staring through the hinge of the kitchen door. Through the peephole of my front door. I freaked out, searched every bit of the house, but I never found it.

It doesn’t matter though – you only need to see it once, and it stays with you. I think I’ve seen it since. I can’t tell anymore. As soon as I start to see something at the window, I see the white of the eyes, the dark hole of the screaming mouth. I can’t stop seeing it, even when I close my eyes. It’s everywhere without being anywhere.

I keep thinking about the face. I don’t even remember a body. I don’t remember what it looks like. I keep thinking that I might see the face again in the street, the face of a passerby locking eyes with me and starting that silent scream. Sometimes when I dream, I dream about waking up and seeing it in my room. In the worst nightmares, it talks to me. It tells me it lives in my neighbour’s houses, it watches me from their windows, and it starts to tell me things about them. It tells me things I couldn’t ever know. Little secrets, little stories, little facts they wouldn’t tell anyone. And then they always turn out to be right. What is that? What does that even mean?

What if there are more, and all my neighbours have seen it? What if we all know each other’s secrets, but we’re too scared to say anything?

Tell everyone who’s seen it that I know what they’re going through. I can’t help. I can’t even help myself. But I know.

197: The Silent Man
An entity has entered the annals of urban myth under a number of names and guises; in Glasgow, it is given the name “Sandshoe Sammy”, a mocking title intended to discourage fear by laughing in the face of it – the name comes from the fact that it can move without making a sound, as though its shoes dampened the noise of its footsteps.

This entity is given other names. Another common appelation is “The Still Man”, in the sense that the entity often brings with it a sense of foreboding stillness before it strikes, or that it makes very little movement in those rare moments where it is seen by an eyewitness. Irrespective of how appropriate this title is, it may be misapplied – German folklore refers to it as “Der Stillmann”, which can be translated to “The Silent Man”, referring back to its method of remaining completely quiet when stalking its victim.

The Silent Man usually appears as a man dressed in dark-coloured clothing, but for whatever reason, appears hazy and indistinct when viewed with the naked eye; its facial features seem to blur into one another when viewed closely. According to most eyewitnesses, the Silent Man simply stands and stares – if it can be said to have eyes. The Silent Man will stalk its victims for any length of time before ultimately disposing of them.

In areas where the Silent Man is seen, atrocities are inevitable; it is an omen of disaster. While eyewitness accounts of its actual behaviour are lacking, it is obvious from the aftermath of its appearances that it is capable of severely mutilating its victims. The most common artifact discovered after an encounter with him are a number of “canopic bags” – fleshy containers that hold each of the victim’s individual organs and body parts – the face bag tends to be left behind most often.

As most of you know, there usually is tangible evidence that a spirit/entity is present, which I consider as evocation; outside of your body. But I had an experience with workings of death spells and invoking demons at a very young age. At 14 I despised god and sat in church meditating and bringing forth (grey) death enegy within the body of the church. After several weekly attempts, and daily rituals and practices I arrived the forth time standing in a thick crowd. My head started feeling compressed hard,

My vision distorted, everything in the dark room became deep blue, sound blocked out... I felt my heart race painfully and had an awful cold soreness around my neck, like the blood was seized. I felt sick and stumbled to the washroom, my head spinning. I sat on the toilet and it faded away, as I shook with fear. I quit persuing that act of violence soon after, and always wondered what it was. I always (from that age to present) believed that angels are evil and decieve the world...

137: The Riddle Querent
There is a former swimming pool in the south of Glasgow, which, due to the general disrepair of the building it is housed in, is open to the skies. The pool lies empty and unused during dry weather, but on those nights where the rain seems to fall heavier than usual, the pool quickly fills up as rainfall trickles in through the dilapidated roof.

It is during these nights that something takes up residence in the depths of the pool.

The only way to gain access to pool is through the roof. You must throw yourself into the black water below you, allow yourself to fall with the rain. As the water rises up around you, you will quickly realise that the water goes far, far deeper than you realise – and far further than is actually possible, judging from the depth of the darkened pool during dry weather. To meet the querent of the pool, you must swim down as far as you physically can. If you are confident in the answer you intend to give the querent, then you should consider weighing yourself down with concrete.

When you swim down far enough that your breath begins to burn in your chest, when your lungs feel as though they’re about to burst, you will hear a voice, quivering and vibrating out through the pool – this is the unseen querent, who poses you a riddle.

“Within the hole you saw your whole environment contained,
Though nothing solid from within could ever be obtained.
This mirror manifested -
Appearing as a guest did -
Once the downpour started, and after it had rained.

Once the sun had crested,
no part of it remained.”

This far down, answering incorrectly or not at all means it will be impossible to resurface in time to take another breath. However, if you answer the querent correctly, you will find yourself able to breathe underwater for far longer than should be humanly possible.