Hello again. I return with absolutely no valid excuse for my absence, so let me just begin with this much procrastinated post.
I do not really have a To Do list in life. I don’t have something that neatly sets down the goals I have to achieve, places I have to go and, well, things that I have to do in the duration of my time on this planet.
For me, this list doesn’t exist because I know that it would constantly keep increasing or decreasing as time and I would move along.
But if it did, there would be one thing that would forever be on that list until I could cross it out.
And it is to have my very own personal library.
Now, those of you who instantly dreamed up the Beast’s private library from the Beauty and the Beast, with forty feet high shelves and rows upon rows of leather bound books to skip sleep over, then shame on you for making me think about it too.
Excuse me while I go cry my eyes out.
Anyway, animated wonders apart, the library that I will own (and actually be able to build in the real world), would be pretty typical in my opinion. Typical, because in the books I’ve read, the sort of library that I want is always owned by a feeble, old, retired and filthy rich man who turns out to be the evil master mind, in all except one, which was The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
So here’s what I want it to look like.
It would be a somewhat big, but not huge, rectangular room. With at least two french windows along the length of it. A fireplace maybe, on the wall directly opposite to the windows, if it snows in the place I happen to live in.
There would be wooden book shelves built into the walls. It would have plush leather armchairs and a sofa. Oh, and also a desk in one corner.
It would obviously have every book I ever bought. Even the ones I’m reading now maybe, if I remain as loving and careful as I am now.
It really would be perfect, wouldn’t it? An absolutely perfect refuge from the realities of the world.
A magnificent escape.
Everybody deserves one, I guess.
Until We Meet Again