- published: 25 Apr 2013
- views: 2138
Sunday (i/ˈsʌndeɪ/ or /ˈsʌndi/) is the day of the week between Saturday and Monday. For most Christians, Sunday is observed as a day for worship of God and rest, due to the belief that it is Lord's Day, the day of Christ's resurrection.
Sunday is a day of rest in most Western countries, part of 'the weekend'. In most Muslim countries, and Israel, Sunday is a working day.
According to the Hebrew calendars, traditional Christian calendars, Sunday is literally the "first day" of the week. According to the International Organization for Standardization ISO 8601 Sunday is the seventh and last day of the week.
No century in the Gregorian calendar starts on a Sunday, whether its first year is '00 or '01. The Jewish New Year never falls on a Sunday. (The rules of the Hebrew calendar are designed such that the first day of Rosh Hashanah will never occur on the first, fourth, or sixth day of the Jewish week; i.e., Sunday, Wednesday, or Friday).
The English noun Sunday derived sometime before 1250 from sunedai, which itself developed from Old English (before 700) Sunnandæg (literally meaning "sun's day"), which is cognate to other Germanic languages, including Old Frisian sunnandei, Old Saxon sunnundag, Middle Dutch sonnendach (modern Dutch zondag), Old High German sunnun tag (modern German Sonntag), and Old Norse sunnudagr (Danish and Norwegian søndag, Icelandic sunnudagur and Swedish söndag). The Germanic term is a Germanic interpretation of Latin dies solis ("day of the sun"), which is a translation of the Ancient Greek heméra helíou. The p-Celtic Welsh language also translates the Latin "day of the sun" as dydd Sul.
You are what parasites evolved from
Still an unanswered question
You are the refused energy from a superior form
Nothing that occurs to you is intended for your involvement
You're an irrelevant effect
Unavoidable, but of low influence
One last thing that you must understand
(To be dead is to be confused, to be mistaken)
You speak to me
Like the anguish of a child doused in flames
Oh, you speak to me
Like the stones that're bashing your skull and brain exposes
Oh it's always been the same
200, 000 years of viciousness
The violent art dissolves
A lost, suffering, weak, cracked out species
Oh you speak to me
Like your life was annihilated in space
Oh you speak to me
In a voice that's trite, calm, and impassionate
And yeah, what do you know?
You know nothing of the abuses of everything
The regretedness of abandonment
The dehumanized regress of love