Tales from a public library
TALES FROM A PUBLIC LIBRARY
Interesting people come to libraries. I like to look around and study the people who are busy researching their next school project, or the old gentleman sitting at the computers struggling to figure out how to operate it. There's a wide range of people, students, parents, grand parents, trendy women who like to look in the magazine section for their favourite subscription, in order to dodge paying $5 per issue on news stands.
I think it's amazing how many people are eager to learn. I think that knowledge is something you can never get enough of. I remember when I was a little girl, I used to think that there was a limit to what you can learn, as if your brain can only hold so much. This thought was portrayed in a movie before, a man is walking through his mind, literally walking through a library of stored information, and he has learned so much that towards the end he had to throw out old information in order to store something new. He decided to throw out his collection of rock lyrics. I would never do such a thing.
At the moment I'm watching the elderly man struggling to find certain letters on his keyboard in front of him. Occasionally looking up at the screen, squinting to see if he managed to write down the right thing. I see him press the backspace button, apparently he's made a mistakes. Next to him is a beautiful African woman, with a wonderfully printed dress on, long braids and a patchwork purse. What intrigues me the most though, is the stylish lady, wearing a plaid skirt with leather knee high boots and a leather jacket, fitted and with an amazing form and professional stitching- probably Hermes. Her brown baret tilted to the side, she hushes to her children, or what I assume to be her children, as they speak too loudly for the library. She quickly speaks to them and they obey. One of the children is wearing a princess outfit, she skips towards the door, hand in hand with her brother, an adorable little scout with sneakers, jeans, a spiderman shirt, and a bright red baseball cap on.
Everybody's eyes are fixated on something, the screen in front of them, a page turning book they can't put down until they finish the next chapter. Three girls snicker as they stare at someone who looks their age, wearing bright pastels and pig tails, they scanter to the door giggling as they look back. I see certain people and I wonder if they are here for work or for pleasure. For myself, I just needed a quiet place to read and collect my thoughts. I'm having a hard time finding the 25th anniiversary edition of The Bell Jar, a book by Sylvia Plath I've been meaning to read since the 8th grade but some how never got around to. I'm hoping to read the fiction novel before the movie comes out in the cinemas. I was just interrupted by a man in a jogging outfit, arranging about four chairs all around him just to hold his personal belongings. I want to scoot over to another seat but I don't want to look pretentious.
I think this environment is engluffing me, but I'm enjoying it. I have a sense of mental freedom here, my mind is wandering in all the right places, as are my eyes. I think I'm going to look at the summer reads section, even though they're probably for teenagers. I could ask for assistance in finding the Bell Jar from the fashion criminals called librarians. They have an amazing amount of knowledge, and I could only imagine how many of these books they've personally read or the extent of their vocabulary.
Over half an hour has passed and I feel my mind making exciting connections. As much as I'd like this creative flow to go on forever, I'd like to spend my time wandering through the bookshelves and accidentally stumbling upon a book that might change my life. I could read it at 3 o'clock in the morning where I might suddenly find a burst of creative energy, spontaneously- the best kind you can get. In a moments time I might create a fabulous work of art and share it with my friends. ...Or at least post it on the internet.