The place of my dreams

My soul aches for places that I've never been. Places that don't entirely make sense. I feel it striking a nerve deep within as I stare. in longing, at places that I have only seen in pictures. Cruel pictures that tell a thousand words and hold a million, but refuse to tell me where I can find them.

This isn't middle Earth that I am talking about. I'm not longing to be at Hogwarts or even in some ethereal forest. I want books. No, not the places books paint in my mind when I peruse them. Actual books. Walls and walls of books. This longing has gotten so out of hand that I'm starting to feel crazy.

This is crazy.

Or at least I try to tell myself it's crazy in order to snap some sense into me, but my mind's whimsy always wins out and I'm back to square one.

I'm back to wanting to walk down this aisle.

Or turn the corner and linger here for a bit.

I don't know what I'll find. It doesn't matter at this point. I'll be way past lost and won't care at all.

Maybe further exploration will bring me to this.

However, none of this compares to the place I find myself staring into with the most longing. Hours of research have brought me no closer to figuring out where this mythical beauty lies. I don't know what continent or if it's public or private. I do know that it's an illogical collection. I realize that half of the books are unreachable due to everything being so overrun. None of that matters.

I want to go home here. I want to get lost. I want to find out how many genres are represented. I want to know how this place smells. What is around the corner. What is under the table. What is on the other side of the wall and behind the camera. These things, I want to know.

Take me here.

You may never be hear from me again. Though to be fair, for some that would be a bonus. Who cares? Just click on that beauty are really take it all in.