Disillusionment at Ten O'Clock and Eavesdropping

An interesting poem, to say the least. After reading the first two lines,

"The houses are haunted,

By white nightgowns."

I immediately picture a creepy, black and white movie where someone is sure to die by the time the story comes to an end. Then all of a sudden I am bombarded by color. Purple and Green, Yellow and Blue. Like the movie Pleasantville. It's wondrous and beautiful and completely imaginative but so out of place. Then things become awfully random. Just like dreams. And then it makes sense; this is a dream. And the dream is about a drunken sailor catching tigers in red weather. Makes perfect sense to me. I mean, who wouldn't want to catch tigers in red weather?


Eavesdropping...

I had the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop today. I was in line for the North Hedges Suite Line-Up(which is a seven hour line-up), and therefore had the most unobtrusive yet unavoidable position to listen to the conversations around me. I can't say the conversations were interesting, nor boring since they were strikingly similar to the ones everyone else was having around me. "What are the chances of us getting into the suites?" "Oh good...only five hours to go!" "This is going to be a looooonnnngggg night"
Naturally, after a while some conversations become tedious and a change of topic can be very welcoming. But, as we've discussed in class, if I think about I would realize my conversations would be just as boring to eavesdroppers. Mostly because the context isn't known. If I knew the people around me better and knew their backgrounds, the conversations would make more sense.