Monday, January 23, 2006

--The Library:


I did my best moonwalk through the different aisles, they were lined with books as far as I could see. This is not to say it was a straight endless path, it's just that as far as I've seen, it's only been books. The bookshelfs are intriguing, some are placed in relative order, some are quite peculiar in shape and are simply placed haphazardly. Maps, models, they leaned against either the bookshelfs or the wall, which was a dull green. The walls were illuminated by standard hallogens.

The strangest aspect to this place is the music. It seems to permeate from every angle, as if I am constantly the focal point. Not overly loud, but the beats and emotional innvocations compell me to simply dance along, flipping through different books at random. Some of them are classics, I start to get really into them but if the music changes, I'm compelled to move along to another. Failure to do so results in extreme hunger and depression.

I heard someone a couple isles over so I decided to mosey on over for a 'what's up?'. The had a pretty hefty book held in both of his hands, he was staring into it, transfixed.

"Heya stranger"

I said it casually, I didn't in fact know this man really, but I run into him all the time. We never really have a whole lot to say, but it's still nice to see a face every now and then.

"Hey, tell me what have you learned since the last time we talked?" he said, still staring into the book before finally heaving it shut and placing it back on the shelf. He turned to me with a grin.

I gave a slight laugh; it is a joke many of us tell each other. When we first realized we were in this place we were more interested in where each of us was, seeing if anyone had heard anything. Little did we know that this little experiment or whatever the fuck it is doesn't really allow for any learning, or perhaps it's just that nothing ever changes but the music? I don't know, but I do know the lyrics to a whole lot of songs. "Hey what book was that big one?" I asked, slithering over to him on a wave of lyrical prose.

"Here, check it out" he said, reaching down to fetch the book from the shelf.

I took the book with one hand and brought it to my other one before opening it up. As usual I looked down to find the same ambiguous square of vampiric squid ink. The edges are definite, a portal I could literally fall into. The abyss of reason, it consumes all color from my world. Is this the exit? Is this the answer? I need to know how I got in this building!

Lately I've seriously considered withstanding the hunger sickness. Perhaps if I lost enough weight I could squeeze through into this realm.

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