Phrenic Pereginations

What is more relaxing than a Sunday afternoon! I know you'd say, 'and what is more depressing than a Sunday night', but I am not going there just yet. I'm happy that it's still afternoon and that it's so relaxing. Random thoughts, brain chasing stream of consciousness, sleepiness, music, food, web, books, Dr. Dobb's Journal -- a little bit of everything. I don't make sense, do I? Well, not everything is supposed to make sense.

And can't get PH off my mind -- someone rightly said, 'songs chosen like pearls in a necklace', how better to put it...
"You can trust the moon to move the mighty ocean, you can trust the sun to shine upon the land;
take the little that you know and you do the best you can, and you see the rest with the quiet faith of man..."
"Follow that road; back thru' time, back thru' distance, back to me..."
"Back in the days, when anything was possible, having less meant knowing more..."
"All of my yearning, all of my hunger; maybe I'm learning, sometimes I wonder....Good Night, New York..."
"And we plough once more familiar ground to old and seasoned lovers...and one heart...is all I hear..."
"My dreams have no horizon lines, this promise knows no bounds..."

"Spring comes, rivers run; your song stills my rambling heart..."

And that hollow voice, more beautiful than a flute...How does someone get a voice like that? And those impeccable enunciations!
I guess I'd better get my lazy butt off the oh-so-comfy couch, spare you from the disorganized ramble(or is that tautology) and get ready for 'Slumdog Millionaire'