The Library

As I walked into the library I felt inquisitively aroused by the majestic essence of it all. However this moment was a lapse in judgement. While I am sure the literature of this eccentric library is vastly wonderful the modern art was a bizarre blemish upon they're greatness.

I will admit that some of the art was beauteous and marvelous, I am not blind to pulchritude; there was just some feeling that didn't settle well with me. The scenery felt forced, it was trying to connect with a society of people that perhaps weren't yet willing to accept the ideals that the library imposed upon ourselves.

It broke many of my ideologies of how a library should be, I didn't even know I had any. I feel ashamed of my eerily judgmental opinions of this space. It seemed to emit a feeling of "Don't judge a book by its cover". The library posed a near quintessential example of situational irony. The books while modeling their obligatory presence, were like the shadow of an object, existing only as a fraction of the whole.

Let me be honest my opinions are scathed, my mood was a suppressor of my true submitted opinions of the library. My thoughts were elsewhere, I was distracted and only felt present for a fleeting moment; regardless of the elusive amount of time spent there. I walked away feeling diffident of the library, while knowing full well it was my own fault. If we look for mistakes we will find them, if we look for agreements to our own liking we will find them. I will need to return to get a fair appreciation and reading of the library.... And perhaps check out a book.