I was trying to think honestly about moving from Huntington. To be closer to work. The realization hit me last week that it would be hard to leave the library here. I know it's as silly to me as it is to you. Today coming up the concrete stairs it became my reality though. I simply may love this place too much.
And here, on the lower level five feet from a fountain, another fountain and grassy woodland park out the floor to ceiling wall to my right, I know it's true. And I get why. It is quiet here, an indulgent, reverent, human quiet. This is the best library in the world. Full with the sound of literally hundreds of bodies choosing to be silent, to be still.
Out my window on Main Street cars run all day and night long. Dogs bark from the back yards. That all the time whir and buzz has its effect on people.
Here at the library the downstairs study rooms are open-aired with two overstuffed comfy couches in the center. In whichever study room you enter those cozy chairs always have people laid out like Jesus on the cross with their head all the way back and eyes closed. And today, I got it. The sacred sound, they like me come here to soak in it. The aching, conscientious quiet.
I can not get enough of it. That's not even to mention the satisfaction of the forever long bike ride all its hills and concrete, or the basement where the poetry stacks are and I can go and completely lose my mind its dimensions so opened that a library basement is my quaky heart drug. I go there for the bliss, I can't get enough. I can't get enough I can't get enough.
So here's to my third daily check-in. Got my morning pages done today, located my backpack finally (dear Dell, does the warranty cover damage done from transport in a bag with a bottomfull of sand?) and now here I am, at the library. To finish my essays. I talk with Erika about my latest submission tonight at 6:15.
Last night was super fun, too even though I wound up not chilling with Derynn and them. I'm stoked to do it again~
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