Screw the rules, I have sore feet

Time: 1837, 1123 to go.
I'm in the SUB right now, by the north exits. There's a red chair I'm sitting in, with a little brown stain by its feet. I edited the rules a little: I'm allowed to sit, so long as I use the time to write rather than rest. There's a large section of the northeast section of campus I've never laid eyes on, so that's my first target. After that... well, we'll see when I'm done up there.
End Entry One.

Time: 1901, 1059 to go.
I'm on the roof of a parking garage.

The picture is of Gage towers, but it really doesn't capture it. You need to think of the biggest christmas tree of your life, triplicate, and you, almost above everything, and not a single person in sight. You can hear, but it's desolate up here. Everything's muted, distant, quiet. It's so peaceful here at 7 at night. I highly recommend it to anyone in the area with time on their hands.
End Entry Two.

Time: 1952, 908 to go.
I'm in the rose garden right now. In my usual spot, when I can get it, which is at the northeast corner, between two of the pillars. It's beautifully lit right now, with semi-romantic yellowish overheads about six feet off the ground. They point downward, so there's little to no vertical light variation, and looks ever so romantic right now. Even though it's cold. On the romantic note, I was sitting here, and the thought came to me, how many people have lost their virginity in this garden? I mean, come on? Late at night, early in the morning, there's no one here. Well, except for two people. There's this other guy who just came down the stairs. But practically no one.
You know, I think this is kind of a fun idea: call it the sunrise patrol. Basically, you have to wonder: how many people see sunrises regularly? And the answer is, not many. Just a few, in fact. So the idea is to get people to stay out all night and see a sunrise. Call is sunrise hunting. I like it, you like me? That's what I thought.
God, I can't believe I'm only a quarter done with the night.
I walked the Labyrinth again, for the record. THere was one outside the chapel, but I didn't know that. I just went down into this hollow in the ground, and there it was. Waiting for me, almost. I was going to take a picture, but I didn't.
End Entry Three.

Time: 2036, Unknown time remaining.
I've got a headache that's coming up; I may be unable to keep this up until morning. But I WILL see the sun rise on tuesday. It will happen. I will make it happen.
In the here and now, I'm outside the Anthropology Museum. Until I came, it was dead silent and... not really eerie. But sacred. It had a feeling of sanctity. I can't put it any better than that, but with no one else around, I can almost feel something here. There's a few totem poles, and just as I crossed the line from light into darkness, the lights of North Van blazed, and I saw them far off and standing on the northern shore, on the very eaves of the mountains.
But then... I shall explore the remainder of this side of University. The other side can wait. I am a patient man, despite my seeming lack of stamina. A pity. I can stop here with a clean conscience, forgive myself for giving up.
I think that this sort of thing would be better undertaken with a group, perhaps three or four in number. We would be a sort of buffer, keeping ourselves in check and upbeat and willing to continue. But only the very best of friends could do this. I mean, come on, they'll be around each other for 12 hours straight in uncertain circumstances. This night might be both first and last for the so-called Sunrise Patrol. Maybe then I'll get back to railroads.
End Entry Four.

Time: 2116, No time remaining.
I'm back home. You know what? Here's the result of the walk tonight:
1) Waking is for the journey not for the end.
2) I walked tonight so that I would have a reason to stay at home, to be inside, and to really enjoy it.
3) Everything is defined in terms of an opposite.
4) Life is a means to itself. That is, the point of life is life.
That's what I got out of it. Disagree all you want, but I feel philosophical, and nothing you can do will change me. Nothing!

Vancouver Branch, over and out.