I commute to school, I live in Columbia. I publish most of my posts at school but I write most of them in Owen Brown. I find my voice and polish my prose in a niche in Cook Library.
Small brick squares available; Separated by windows with a desk lamp and plug.
The room smells like page paper. Not the hot off the printer scent but the dissertation under dust scent. The carpets are clean, people are quiet and there's a Starbucks upstairs, if that's your thing.
To my right are columns and rows of Easter egg colored tomes on vomit colored bookcases.
I try to stay off Facebook. I like to play Super Nintendo Games muted while I replay .dvf interview files questing for quotes. People like to write on the desks, the light panels even the bricks.
If you're ever in Cook Library, I penned some existential enlightenment on the stall of the 4th floor bathroom. I'll save you the trip:
Reality is defined by the perception of reality.
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