Sunday, 30 November 2008

With a humming in our ears, we play endlessly.

It's Sunday.
Sundays are generally thought more depressing than other days. Possibly because it's the end of another week, and you look back on what you did, and are underwhelmed. Possibly because most of your friends are unavailable, either asleep because they've been out partying on Saturday night, or they're somewhere doing things with their family or their boy- and girlfriends. You are surrounded by a vacuum of activity, and you don't have anybody to drink tea and light the candle on the Adventkranz with.* You don't even have an Adventkranz. Tomorrow is Monday and you don't quite feel up to it. If Sunday's weren't so awful you'd like another one between today and tomorrow. But in fact that would solve the problem, because it would turn today into a Saturday, and that would be fantastic.

To be honest, I don't feel like that now, and I haven't felt that way for a long time. Recently, I've found Saturdays more distressing that Sundays.
But then again, most of my distress seems to happen in a faraway country which I observe with the attentive but detached eye of a scientist.
Is this good?

I've been listening to this:
And I want to own it.

*HAHAHA ambiguity.

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