This was the week I discovered the beauty of the library.
Don't get me wrong, I have always used it, but I have rarely found solace in it. This week I did. Every day after class I have gone there to crane over desks with a sort of studious enthusiasm. I have admired its silence in a way I never could before; where it used to impose, it soothes. And the funny, stupid, ridiculous thing is that after all that work I still am no closer to completing my deadlines. My mind feels claustrophobic with too many quotations that are not my own, merely embellishments to much wider ideas. I feel jealous of those that have spoken first.
But today was Friday, so things felt relaxed a little. I learned how to use a dark room and develop photographs; I bought a vintage dress from a campus stall; I jumped and sauntered through autumn leaves discarded to the ground by their maternal veins...
...and I resolved that I will write that essay tomorrow.