The Library and the Collections

The sky above the port was the color
of television, tuned to a dead channel
Neuromancer

The Library is a dark and gloomy place at night. Several candles are burning and you see shelves and shelves of books lining the walls. Several of the shelves have glass doors to protect the books inside from moisture and dust.

A huge fan is hung from the ceiling and is making a soft klicking noise every once in a while. It is surprisingly cool in this room even though there seem to be no windows.

The floor is covered by a thick persian rug. In the center of the room is a large desk cluttered with books, papers and a few paraphernalia. Someone is working here in daytime obviously. There is a glass and a decanter with an indistinguishable liquid standing next to a picture of a young man with short dark hair.

A computer is well hidden among all the books and papers so you can only tell it is there because of the monitor that is the centerpiece of this complicated arrangement.

The Catalogue:

Things to do or not:
(Disclaimer: all personal opinion)

games you should have played	pages you should have visited
topics you should have talked about	ideas you should have had
movies you should have seen	people you should have known?
music you should have heard	books you should have read
thoughts you should have contemplated	food you should have eaten

Epilog

Iamque opus exegi, quod nec Iovis ira nec ignis
nec poterit ferrum nec edax abolere vetustas.
cum volet, illa dies, quae nil nisi corporis huius
ius habet, incerti spatium mihi finiat aevi;
parte tamen meliore mei super alta perennis
astra ferrar, nomenque erit indelebile nostrum.
quaque patet domitis Romana potentia terris,
ore legar populi, perque omnia saecula fama,
si quid habent veri vatum praesagia, vivam.

Nun ist vollendet ein Werk, das weder Jupiters Zorn noch
Feuer und Schwert zerstoert, noch der Zahn gefraessiger Zeiten.
Komme, Tag, wann du willst, der ein Recht nur auf meinen Koerper
Hat, und endige auch meines Lebens unsichre Dauer.
Doch mein besserer Teil fliegt ueber die hohen Gestirne
Ewig, und niemals wird in đen Zeiten mein Name vergehen.
Wo auch die roemische Macht sich erstreckt ueber friedliche Laender,
Bin ich im Munde des Volkes und in allen Jahrhunderten werd ich -
Kuendet des Dichters Ahnen die Wahrheit - hochgeruehmt leben.

(Ovidius, Metamorphosen)