Some words on life at AQ, Pt. 4

Every night is different, yet, in the most rudimentary sense, the same as the one before. Almost every night we go on a walk. These walks differ in length and direction, but remain consistent in that we never seem to have a destination. We walk for the sake of walking, largely because it is one of the few options of things to do late at night, or very early in the morning. Much of our time together at night is spent either in the lounge of St. Joseph Hall, where we all reside, or outside on Cig Isle. In the lounge, we talk to each other over Facebook chat—quite pathetic, but it allows for private conversation within the large group we constantly gather in. The fad used to be comparing people on Facebook, but now has mutated into a Solitaire epidemic. Often, some time is spent at the Arts and Music Center, practice room 130. Charlie beats the drums, Joel strums and picks his guitar, and Carrie and I satisfy ourselves creating ambient sound by tapping the cowbell, scraping two rough rocks together. Often these jam sessions take place after our walk, usually around one or two o’clock in the morning. Each of us prides ourselves in our ability to stay awake until the early hours of the morning. Days blur and melt together, especially when we fail to sleep for two days straight. This happens more often than is generally healthy, but as Joel says, “Sleep is for dreamers.” We prefer to maintain consciousness for as long as our bodies will allow us to, and sometimes longer. We like to test our physical limitations, push the boundaries. As the early morning progresses, our numbers slowly decrease as people get sleepy and retreat to their rooms for rest. It is fairly standard for me to go to bed around five. Joel, Conor, and I are generally the last people in the lounge. Conor falls asleep there, and sometimes I do too. Soon, it is time to sleep. I wake Conor up and tell him it is time to change sleep locations. We go outside for a final cigarette before bed, then back inside, and up the stairs to the second floor. Conor and I change, wash our faces and brush our teeth, then pull ourselves up onto my lofted bed. I look out the window as I wait for sleep to overcome my mind. I shut my eyes, the dreams begin.