The place I work is nice. It’s spacey and beautiful. I like the people there… Most of the time though, all I’m doing is shelving books and looking for things people have put on hold. It’s decent pay, but I guess minimum wage is all you can ask for at 16.
the place with the books. Librarians are quirky. I haven’t been to one in years and years, but I drove past one today and thought, “maybe I should go?” and then I didn’t. It’s right next to my house. I bet it smells good. But it probably doesn’t,
A place where I get what I enjoy most. Also where homeless people hang out during the day and no one kicks them out. Working in mental health, this makes me happy. I couldn’t stay in a library too long though, because it’s too quiet in there and you come across some weird shit.
Oh library of memories
I have cataloged you to death
I have rewritten my thinking
Hoping to arrange things for the best
Knowing what I know now
About the way you treated me crappy
I am on a different path in life
Your killing us made me happy
I go to the library all the time. Well that’s a lie. I used to go to the library all the damn time, and now I just can’t find any time whatsoever to collect my thoughts through a good book on the 2nd floor of the library. I used to read the boxcar children books a lot in the library too, the mystery was what kept me going for the few hours that I was there.
The echo of screams bounced everywhere. The clinking of swords, the smooth laughter of children, and waves lapping at the shore could be heard from the pages people so quietly turned. Whole lives held out through small font on thin pieces of paper bound to cardboard.
I used to work at a library. It wasn’t the same kind of a library that I grew up with. The one I liked the most was the library at Our Lady of Mercy. It seems like it was downstairs, next to the cafeteria. Sister Sharon used to run the place with an iron fist.
I walked into the library, and the smell of old books and the sound of turning pages filled me. A boy glanced at me from a nearby table, flashing me a warm smile before returning his eyes to his book. I glanced at the cover, but couldn’t read the title.
The library was my home away from home. It was absolutely amazing.
It’s full of books and smells wonderful. The people who work there, librarians, are usually very nice and helpful. I work in a library, and I absolutely love it. It’s a place that contains a million different worlds that you can jump into simply by turning a page.
In the library, there was quiet. Or that was how it was supposed to be. Mr. Latham patrolled the big open duplex area, and we snickered and dropped things off the balcony. Typical things like paper airplanes, and more arcane stuff, liked deviled ham sandwiches.
if there was shelving in here, she would think, she would play, she wouldn’t cry, she forgot to laugh. i think she lost what she was looking for some time ago.
She went to the library for some peace and quiet. It was just about the only place in her town that was ever relaxing anymore. Half the time she didn’t even read the books, she’d just sit there and absorb the lovely solitude.
Books redolent old pages. The air of silence between stacks of information. Studying all night for test I take all day long. Endless amount of stories and verse within pages. While noise comes and goes, silence always returns to the library..
boring place full of intelectual wisdome. I dont like the silence in there but I appreciate the neccessity of libraries. they fascinate me in a strange way because I want the information in them but do not have the focus and reading skills it would take to read it all… never mind the time.
As I was walking to the library one day, the thought crossed my mind that there was more to my local library than just books. Now it might seem strange, but every time I visit, at least twice a week, I feel a strange presence around me.
Library: the word to be defined as a place to expand one persons knowledge to fill a child with the many wonders of the world. A library is a breeding playground for the great and genius where one word one idea could spark the idea of many.
I already wrote about this, but I’ll go again. Read about David Foster Wallace. A genius, yet so wrong in regard to math and, AND, grammar! What! His mom wrote that book on grammar. God damn it. What is going on! I can’t make sense of it. Is anyone perfect anymore? Is anyone a genius anymore? We all seem so human. That’s all we are. Fucking humans.
As I stepped out into the cold brisk morning of December 10th, I came to a realization of how that one day in the public library changed my life. Not for the worse but evenuatlyy for the better. I was only lucky to find out that the one day in there would change my life forever.
I never thought I’d fall in love here! I never thought I’d find perfection within these wall,but every chapter of every book spoke volumes to me and I couldnt help but feel nostalgic and full of hope,here in the library!
It’s so easy to get lost in a library.
As you walk through the bookshelves,
Fingers skimming the bindings,
You can hear the books whispering,
Their voices soft, like a feather’s touch.
You can feel the presence of other worlds,
Just waiting to be explored.
I love getting lost in a library.
I almost wish I’m never found again.
It’s a place where there informational books. They help out for researches. The library is a helpful use when doing homework and wanting to just learn. There are several books of many genres. There are books for all people.
a library: the only place where dragons fly among the musical masterpieces of Mozart. Where the cat in the hat can rendezvous with Archie and the gang, while Sherlock deduces who stole the cookie from the cookie jar. the library is a place where the possibilities are endless, and anything is possible.
The library smells good. I can’t see around the stacks but I can hear. I can hear and smell. The books are the most prominent scent but I can tell that others are there by perfume, body odor, and food that drifts on the air current that flows around the room.
i could never tell anyone my childhood passion of searching endlessly and blissfully through the library. there had to be something wrong with me. now i never read.. what a travesty.
All I am
is a library of memories
The freckle on your eyebrows under section FR13
Your brand of aftershave under BA52
The time we danced that night on the beach
under US27
A library is somewhere nice and peaceful. There are a ton of books one can check out for free if they’d like, or one can just read there. They are great places to go when you are looking for any type of information. I go there a lot when I’m bored and want to learn something interesting or new.
Library is a place a rarely go. Sure, it’s usually a second home for most college students, but I’m a musical theater major. What am I supposed to do with a library? I’ve been to my library twice – to find a script for a show I auditioned for and to look at monologue books for a class assignment.
I used to want to be a librarian. When the librarians came to school to read books, I listened to the words, but I focused on the glasses and the voice. I wanted glasses like the librarian glasses and when I went home, I would practice the voice.
When I was younger I couldn’t say the word library, I always said “liberry” or “liburary.” My mother would always correct me. I felt incredibly victorious the first time I said ti right without thinking. I also “camaco” for flamingo and “booberly” for blueberry.
I aspire to work in a library. After getting my diploma as a library technician, I’ve been trying very hard to find a job that best matches my desires. Working in a school library or perhaps a really big library would be my best place. I like the big libraries. Like the one on say a post-secondary campus.
the library is not as she expected. the books aren’t dusty; the shelves aren’t dark and cramped. there are no gowned scholars, no sconces. just strip-lighting and well-organised folders. she is oddly disappointed.
I used to work at a library in college. I used to look at all the books and think about all the philosophical arguments I wasn’t aware of. I used to wonder about all the phlilosophy I was missing out on. It used to agonize me, it caused anxiety. All that information. All that thought. And I’m just an undergrad. How do I begin to learn? Where is the start? Where to begin? Thousands of books.
I like libraries with all of their books. It’s interesting how the best books always seem to be really old or really new. But there’s something about bookstores… The books always seem to be better there. I can find the ones I really want to read. SO much.
Libraries are huge place to keep a lot of information. This information is used to keep people educated. Some children use libraries to help with their projectfor school. Some children like to go to the library to use the computers. Some people do not have computers and they take their families there to explore.
That’s where we met. It was cold outside, warm inside. The books smelled old, but their content was arbitrary, disappointing. Like you. I wanted something better. Something better for such a story. Instead, I got nothing.
In the library there is solitude and silence. Within the confines of these walls, I can let my imagination wander uninhibited. I wonder if others experience this same freedom or if they feel constrained by other obligations. Why are they here? Are they here under their own free will or by obligation to write papers like literary slaves? I don’t know, all I know is that I am home.
a cozy, warm place. you nestle yourself in the corner beside a three-legged wooden mahogany stool, old faded books in your lap with yellowing parchment pages, crisp as you turn them. there is but a sound. your feel made a pleasant sound as they walk on the wooden floor, but elsewise it is silent.
Hush.
It’s quiet, it’s dark, and I’m reading.
I’m doing work, I’m studying…
I don’t want to do this; I feel so lazy.
But hush. The toddlers are in the corner, crying, and the snooty librarian goes, “Shhhh!”
Libraries are for all kinds of people.
The place I work is nice. It’s spacey and beautiful. I like the people there… Most of the time though, all I’m doing is shelving books and looking for things people have put on hold. It’s decent pay, but I guess minimum wage is all you can ask for at 16.
the place with the books. Librarians are quirky. I haven’t been to one in years and years, but I drove past one today and thought, “maybe I should go?” and then I didn’t. It’s right next to my house. I bet it smells good. But it probably doesn’t,
A place where I get what I enjoy most. Also where homeless people hang out during the day and no one kicks them out. Working in mental health, this makes me happy. I couldn’t stay in a library too long though, because it’s too quiet in there and you come across some weird shit.
Oh library of memories
I have cataloged you to death
I have rewritten my thinking
Hoping to arrange things for the best
Knowing what I know now
About the way you treated me crappy
I am on a different path in life
Your killing us made me happy
I go to the library all the time. Well that’s a lie. I used to go to the library all the damn time, and now I just can’t find any time whatsoever to collect my thoughts through a good book on the 2nd floor of the library. I used to read the boxcar children books a lot in the library too, the mystery was what kept me going for the few hours that I was there.
The echo of screams bounced everywhere. The clinking of swords, the smooth laughter of children, and waves lapping at the shore could be heard from the pages people so quietly turned. Whole lives held out through small font on thin pieces of paper bound to cardboard.
I used to work at a library. It wasn’t the same kind of a library that I grew up with. The one I liked the most was the library at Our Lady of Mercy. It seems like it was downstairs, next to the cafeteria. Sister Sharon used to run the place with an iron fist.
I walked into the library, and the smell of old books and the sound of turning pages filled me. A boy glanced at me from a nearby table, flashing me a warm smile before returning his eyes to his book. I glanced at the cover, but couldn’t read the title.
The library was my home away from home. It was absolutely amazing.
It’s full of books and smells wonderful. The people who work there, librarians, are usually very nice and helpful. I work in a library, and I absolutely love it. It’s a place that contains a million different worlds that you can jump into simply by turning a page.
In the library, there was quiet. Or that was how it was supposed to be. Mr. Latham patrolled the big open duplex area, and we snickered and dropped things off the balcony. Typical things like paper airplanes, and more arcane stuff, liked deviled ham sandwiches.
if there was shelving in here, she would think, she would play, she wouldn’t cry, she forgot to laugh. i think she lost what she was looking for some time ago.
She went to the library for some peace and quiet. It was just about the only place in her town that was ever relaxing anymore. Half the time she didn’t even read the books, she’d just sit there and absorb the lovely solitude.
It was good to once again go to the library, there is a peacefullness there that can’t be found anywhere but in the library.
Books redolent old pages. The air of silence between stacks of information. Studying all night for test I take all day long. Endless amount of stories and verse within pages. While noise comes and goes, silence always returns to the library..
boring place full of intelectual wisdome. I dont like the silence in there but I appreciate the neccessity of libraries. they fascinate me in a strange way because I want the information in them but do not have the focus and reading skills it would take to read it all… never mind the time.
As I was walking to the library one day, the thought crossed my mind that there was more to my local library than just books. Now it might seem strange, but every time I visit, at least twice a week, I feel a strange presence around me.
Library: the word to be defined as a place to expand one persons knowledge to fill a child with the many wonders of the world. A library is a breeding playground for the great and genius where one word one idea could spark the idea of many.
I already wrote about this, but I’ll go again. Read about David Foster Wallace. A genius, yet so wrong in regard to math and, AND, grammar! What! His mom wrote that book on grammar. God damn it. What is going on! I can’t make sense of it. Is anyone perfect anymore? Is anyone a genius anymore? We all seem so human. That’s all we are. Fucking humans.
As I stepped out into the cold brisk morning of December 10th, I came to a realization of how that one day in the public library changed my life. Not for the worse but evenuatlyy for the better. I was only lucky to find out that the one day in there would change my life forever.
I never thought I’d fall in love here! I never thought I’d find perfection within these wall,but every chapter of every book spoke volumes to me and I couldnt help but feel nostalgic and full of hope,here in the library!
It’s so easy to get lost in a library.
As you walk through the bookshelves,
Fingers skimming the bindings,
You can hear the books whispering,
Their voices soft, like a feather’s touch.
You can feel the presence of other worlds,
Just waiting to be explored.
I love getting lost in a library.
I almost wish I’m never found again.
It’s a place where there informational books. They help out for researches. The library is a helpful use when doing homework and wanting to just learn. There are several books of many genres. There are books for all people.
a library: the only place where dragons fly among the musical masterpieces of Mozart. Where the cat in the hat can rendezvous with Archie and the gang, while Sherlock deduces who stole the cookie from the cookie jar. the library is a place where the possibilities are endless, and anything is possible.
The library smells good. I can’t see around the stacks but I can hear. I can hear and smell. The books are the most prominent scent but I can tell that others are there by perfume, body odor, and food that drifts on the air current that flows around the room.
i could never tell anyone my childhood passion of searching endlessly and blissfully through the library. there had to be something wrong with me. now i never read.. what a travesty.
All I am
is a library of memories
The freckle on your eyebrows under section FR13
Your brand of aftershave under BA52
The time we danced that night on the beach
under US27
The shelves are collapsing
And I am consumed
A library is somewhere nice and peaceful. There are a ton of books one can check out for free if they’d like, or one can just read there. They are great places to go when you are looking for any type of information. I go there a lot when I’m bored and want to learn something interesting or new.
Library is a place a rarely go. Sure, it’s usually a second home for most college students, but I’m a musical theater major. What am I supposed to do with a library? I’ve been to my library twice – to find a script for a show I auditioned for and to look at monologue books for a class assignment.
books
librarian
desk
borrow
Eco
doors
kathy
online
white coat
queue
photocopier
desks
PCs
window
people
students
professors
I used to want to be a librarian. When the librarians came to school to read books, I listened to the words, but I focused on the glasses and the voice. I wanted glasses like the librarian glasses and when I went home, I would practice the voice.
When I was younger I couldn’t say the word library, I always said “liberry” or “liburary.” My mother would always correct me. I felt incredibly victorious the first time I said ti right without thinking. I also “camaco” for flamingo and “booberly” for blueberry.
I aspire to work in a library. After getting my diploma as a library technician, I’ve been trying very hard to find a job that best matches my desires. Working in a school library or perhaps a really big library would be my best place. I like the big libraries. Like the one on say a post-secondary campus.
the library is not as she expected. the books aren’t dusty; the shelves aren’t dark and cramped. there are no gowned scholars, no sconces. just strip-lighting and well-organised folders. she is oddly disappointed.
I used to work at a library in college. I used to look at all the books and think about all the philosophical arguments I wasn’t aware of. I used to wonder about all the phlilosophy I was missing out on. It used to agonize me, it caused anxiety. All that information. All that thought. And I’m just an undergrad. How do I begin to learn? Where is the start? Where to begin? Thousands of books.
I like libraries with all of their books. It’s interesting how the best books always seem to be really old or really new. But there’s something about bookstores… The books always seem to be better there. I can find the ones I really want to read. SO much.
Libraries are huge place to keep a lot of information. This information is used to keep people educated. Some children use libraries to help with their projectfor school. Some children like to go to the library to use the computers. Some people do not have computers and they take their families there to explore.
That’s where we met. It was cold outside, warm inside. The books smelled old, but their content was arbitrary, disappointing. Like you. I wanted something better. Something better for such a story. Instead, I got nothing.
In the library there is solitude and silence. Within the confines of these walls, I can let my imagination wander uninhibited. I wonder if others experience this same freedom or if they feel constrained by other obligations. Why are they here? Are they here under their own free will or by obligation to write papers like literary slaves? I don’t know, all I know is that I am home.
a cozy, warm place. you nestle yourself in the corner beside a three-legged wooden mahogany stool, old faded books in your lap with yellowing parchment pages, crisp as you turn them. there is but a sound. your feel made a pleasant sound as they walk on the wooden floor, but elsewise it is silent.
Hush.
It’s quiet, it’s dark, and I’m reading.
I’m doing work, I’m studying…
I don’t want to do this; I feel so lazy.
But hush. The toddlers are in the corner, crying, and the snooty librarian goes, “Shhhh!”
Libraries are for all kinds of people.