Melbourne for the lonely: State Library of Victoria

It's been raining a lot recently. A welcome change, i think, for this bleak city. Its almost summer now anyway, so some wet weather's always welcome.
It's not everyday that anything at all is nice to you. Not in Melbourne.


A wise man once wrote that the problems of men stem from their inability to stay quietly alone in their rooms.
A boy can try though.
There's the internet, Youtube, and SBS for those late nights when none of your friends are around for you, 'busy' with 'school', 'work', 'girlfriends'. A few minutes for coffee is much too valuable it seems.

Rain's stopped, let's go out. This French film is crap anyway.

There's something ethereal about the State Library at night. The soft glows the streetlights give, the glint of light reflecting of the damp blades of grass on the front lawn. The library is tranquil at midnight.

Any earlier there would be b-boys breaking by the entrance. The same group boys always, twirling, sliding locking, tinny boom boom booms filling the silent air. I wish I danced like that. Might have changed things.

It's less idyllic in the day. The sun attracts people. Tourists with their cameras, executives with their lunches, sun worshipers and couples. Oblivious, reveling in their brief moments of happiness, forgetting that her smile, his warmth lasts only a brief slip in time. It all comes crashing down too soon. Before long it's lost, and only traces of it remain, like the sunken building in the corner of the street.

The lawn may be too much after awhile, so go inside. Hunched lines of readers and quiet queues greet you and walls of books surround. There's only hushed reverence in this sanctuary from the strain and fight that exist of the city.

Amble through the exhibitions, and remind yourself that there is bigger world out there. A world that's been here long before, and will continue to operate long after.

You could spend a lifetime here looking through the books, scores, and microfilms. There really is no rush. You have plenty of time to tire of listening to yourself think.

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