Acoustic guitar is a thing of beauty. From the elegant vibrations created by its nylon strings to its polished mahogany finish, an acoustic guitar can be heavenly both to the touch and to the ears. When you each carried in your deluxe, hard-shell guitar cases on move-in day, I felt blessed to be a part of the talented and diverse Harvard community.

However, tonight, as I am forced to listen as you all attempt to play "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen in unison 14 times in a row, I can safely say that I now know what hell feels like.

When I had the aux and you asked me to play “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac, I didn’t know it was because you were going to ruin the song for me forever by playing along completely off-beat. And clearly I was wrong to believe that I could start a conversation with you because you are too “in the zone” to respond to anything I have to say.

I can understand that you’ve had a tough day and you need to let off some steam. I’ve had a tough day, too. And guess what: It's all because of you. Nobody agreed to hearing you take out your struggles on a poor, wooden creature which is very literally screaming out in opposition.

That guitar hasn't done anything to hurt you, but it will once I start banging it over your head!

Now if you will all excuse me, I will be in bed listening to "Wonderwall."