Frm alexandria of yore to oft to cme such miseries, the most atrocious creation by man is the libraries. The barking hounds of tests close in tail of migrating hoardes of CATS drive virgin minds into these towers of gloom. Stale, musty unexcitn, untraveld air weaves its arms round you tighter n tighter prison bars to experienc. Endles march of fingers thro' yellown, lack lustre pages and the usurping of flights of fancy with rhythmles, tuneles facts.
The world speeds by n time couldn sip though slower. Minutes pound by lyk drunken sailors blindly seeking the abode of the northwind ne'er catching the hour.
Sleep comes to the weak, bland reticence to the strong!
Bt slog we do, like sloths masticating, diligence finds hme in the rhythm of aspiration and libraries fill with fear-driven hoardes and goal-driven sputters
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