Hastily Beating Plowshares Back Into Swords

I should be writing my last brief for my art history class, but I don't really feel like it. It's not due until Tuesday so I'll write it Monday night when I get back from PELA. Speaking of which, I really should start writing that PELA paper sometime soon.

I did basically nothing today, besides some light cleaning and a little eating. And I read "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich," which is a classic and is probably worthy of that title. It made me want to go to Russia, which is clearly not its intended effect, as it's about a day in one of Stalin's concentration camps. But you know, once I get a hold of an idea, it's hard for me to let it go.

I've been staying up til morning and then sleeping til afternoon all weekend and I'm going to regret that come tomorrow. I didn't get out of bed today until 2, although I'd been awake for a while. I didn't have any reason to get out of bed, so I didn't bother.

I have a song from Thom Yorke's solo album, Eraser, in my head. The song is called "Harrowdown Hill" and it makes me inexpressibly happy whenever I hear it, even though it's not a happy song. Thom Yorke's work tends to have that effect on me. Maybe it's shockingly corny and adolescent, but there are a lot of songs with lyrics that really speak to me, and that's one of them. Particularly the part that's stuck in my head right now:

"But I'm coming home
I'm coming home
To make things right so dry your eyes
We think the same things at the same time
We just can't do anything about it."

It's a song about revolution, of course. Technically, I'm a song about revolution.