24 and so much more

It was a long saturday; a few of us just took to some sober appreciation of the altar of entertainment in our suite room tonight. We put on a vinyl copy of Neil Young's Harvest, and I laid floorwise in front of the speakers, eyes closed. I found the other day that I can trigger, or sort of let myself feel, some kind of electric senation course through my body, and so I squeezed this flow on every time my thoughts drifted to it, and tried to slow my heartbeat to match the rhythm of the bass drum.

I think I was very content for those 40 minutes or so, but what good is that now...?

I had plans of working on my Operating Systems assignment tonight to finish it early, but I think those were only made because I wanted something to cover up from myself the fact that I didn't have anything overly social going on tonight. Why am I always trying to trick myself? What a stupid game.

See the lonely boy, out on the weekend
Trying to make it pay.
Can't relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Can't begin to say.

-- Neil Young, Out on the Weekend