My ode to Libraries

I love libraries, just by going into a library it makes me feel more clever. I like the fact that they are so quiet and often very cool and has that very strange smell of dusty books. I think this is something that I'm brought up with, we used to go to the library a lot as a child and I have used and stolen books from every school library I have ever attended. I do feel a little bad about the stealing, I'm sure it was not intentional at the time, just a case of forgetting to return them and then skipping the country.

The thing that I love most about libraries is that the books are free. Which means you have the right to use/read/surround yourself with such an abundance of books that you will never be at a loss of what to read next. It also means that every book does not have to be good, it is not so bad if you get a book that is quite crap cause you do not have to finish it. You can be wasteful (obviously without ruining the books). Whereas if you buy a book, especially here in Australia where even paper back books are extraordinary expensive ( it's horrendous the price of books here) then if the book is not good, you get very disappointed and feel you wasted your money. This leads me to read books by the same few authors that I know I like. Hence no new interesting book types or stories.

The library allows me to overcome this. To expand on the authors that I normally read I decided that I will pick books from the library using the randomized technique in a colour system. To be specific this works such that I walk along all shelf's in the library and pick 6 books, all having different colours. The first time I did this I ended up with 1 gay porn book and 5 books about people either dying or being dead already. So the first time the system didn't really work out. It wasn't real porn, more like a really steamy chicklit book for gay men about men. The other books where all about death in someway. Not good for my mood at the time.

Last time it worked much better. I got an acid green book which has the craziest story in the whole world, obviously written by a guy that has smoked to much fun things. It has all things a good book should have, disappearing flatmates, hippies dressed up cockroach suits trying to take over an American naval ship by running into a fence repeatedly and really vengeful lesbians with huge motorcycles. Very entertaining. It was also a book about thrifty living, one about taxi driving and a whole heap of stories about love. I even found one that was the first book in series I read at 13 but had never read the first book of (VC Andrews). It was terrible. I remember loving it at 13 thought.

On Saturday I'm going to the library, I'm getting a whole new load. I think this time I will only pick books in the red-pink-orange colour scheme to accommodate the Christmas feelings that are coming along nicely