A Reader holds the weight of a beautifully-bound book: someone’s story rests in her hands. Surrounded by stacks, she sits and enjoys the experience of the mind, forgetting the fiction of separation of story & soul. Settled into adventure & exploring footpaths of footnotes with the strongest muscle, comfortable constantly climbing chapters with no space between stories. Corridors of content, A Reader is rapt in captive concentration, settled into internal adventure, moving her mind off the map into the terrain of intellectual topography.
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A Reader remains seated as she moves, meandering with her mind, body forgotten in bygone books that light landscapes crisscrossing the creative culture of captured pathological exploration. Concentricity of cognation as a cacophony of chapters continue to grow into collections, bridging shelving between genres, a yellow brick Dewey Decimal downward spiral that stretches into encyclopedic skyscrapers & forests whose fungi flourish in filtered fluorescent. The direction is straight to the end, but the way weaves through thought theory & round table rhetoric. 
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Disoriented during a cerebral escapade of Wilde wandering, pages flutter as A Reader breezes by, a flurry of moving empathetic epiphanies. Lost in the library but never alone, humanity abound in the folio utopia of complex conclusions & borrowed drama, extended periodical pleasure of temporal exploration. A Reader instills meaning & distills experience as an audience: intention is no match for interpretation & A Reader transforms from the passenger to the guide; she imprints ink with her visage creating her own version of letterpress love. A Reader finds herself reading between the lines, where ideas extend past philosophy & into the pages of the book she holds, someone’s story the paginated pavement of her own enlightenment.