Thursday, 10 September 2015

Reminiscing in a forest of paper

I didn't enjoy school – high school was painful and university was worse ‘cause I had no friends, but I'm generally a poor student because, as far as I'm aware, no-one hands out Masters Degrees in Procrastination. 

My lack of talent in schooling is possibly why I've not visited a library often in the last decade or so - it brings back memories of trying to stay awake while throwing together assignments that I've had months to write, but could never muster enough motivation to do properly. I left with the piece of paper that I sought and paid dearly for, so the fact that I learned bugger all is probably irrelevant. 

Even though book shops are pretty much extinct these days, everything is within a few taps of the keyboard anyway.

Or so I thought.

I was married 15 years ago at our Parliament building, which is down the road a bit from where I work.
The House where the Arseclowns live
On a quest to catch a bit of Vitamin D, I wandered over to reminisce about being young and care free and found myself in the building’s State Library instead. The scent of stale paper filled my nostrils, the familiar sight of hippy-looking professional academics made me smile, and I found myself just a little excited at being there because I wanted to be, not because I had to be.

There were walls of books on every conceivable topic, that I could pick up, hold in my hand, and flip the pages of without using a mouse. 
Is there an answer lurking in there somewhere?
They even had a science fiction section:

It made me feel good and I could have stayed there for hours, but I was running out of time and still wanted to get to my intended destination. 
Still the same, just missing the 20-something beautiful couple
The books will still be there tomorrow.