Scribble #10

There are nuns in the cafe. And babies. And people in winter jumpers. The elderly. The adolescents. The relaxed. The sipping of teas. The endless chatting. There are as many people in this dim but animated stop as there is food and drink. The music is terrible, but the chatter and the baristas pouring in the beverages easily drown out that noise.

Tea, coffee, nuns. Tea, coffee, love. Tea, coffee, monster. Tea, coffee, cake? Truly the cafe is the most social of places to sit and recollect. No need for beats; only beans.

Cappuccino. Nut cake. Comfy seats. Soul music (the good music). Coke bottles and glasses, and coffee with the froth building up on top. A little piece of heaven in every cafe.

I love the library. To me it is synonymous with heaven. The quiet, the respect, the levels upon levels of endless reading material. Chances are you will find what you are looking for, even if you yourself don't know it yet, and, as always in life, it is found where you will least expect it to be. Buying books is fun, but borrowing them asks for no money and barely your time - it is the place to be free. Lost and then found, thy name is library. Please, please don't let it fall, don't let this sanctuary die. It will always be like a second home to me, myself and I.

Relax. Read a good book. Or bad book, whatever your tastes and opinions. Any book is magical, and can be found in any magical, labyrinthine place and space. A space of knowledge. Books have power, and light, so never underestimate a library - the most powerful and fully-realised of all space and time occupation.

Books and libraries and book shops are like trees; they grow and grow and become firmer and sturdier in age, and more relevant in time. We need these things to live in and understand this world; to make it a better place for everyone. Try to burn them down, there will always be seeds left to grow back - seeds of ideas, of the past, materials needed to start humanity on the right track to knowledge and preservation once again. A circle of paper and tools. A cycle of the written word.

(The little library cafe is nice too. At least the music's better.)

Why is there a table and two chairs smack in the middle of the shopping mall? Can I sit and write on the table? Big spaces with few people feel and look empty no matter what. No good smells or sounds or anything. Or tastes.