It's a bank of knowledge we're all just wandering around. Some with nothing particular in mind. Others are looking for something specific. Something to gift to a neighbor, to a brother, a sister, a spouse, a friend. However it is not of the them that I intend to speak.
I'm one of the wanderers. I meander between the shelves, catching excerpts of revolutionary minds, hearing young, inquisitive minds wondering aloud to their parents. Some of those with small feet and still developing minds are set free. "Go explore for yourself while I get my work done," says the look of a mother to her daughter. This place is perhaps the biggest jungle. Setting one's mind free here offers a myriad of dangers, a seemingly limitless opportunity for growth. We can read the words, or simply be observed by the illustrations, photographs, and depictions and something is entering into our minds. It doesn't matter if we're acknowledging it or not, the knowledge, experience, and exposures are seeping into our systems.
You can take our threads and turn us into something. There are threads of others that we tie to our own stories, some by choice and others slip stealthily into our subconscious. Perhaps they're right to fear the unknown, after all they don't know it. They don't know what they fear. They only know what they've already experienced.
Tie me into something else. Something that still is me. Something that can connect me with those outside. Tie me to the world outside. Tie what is within to the the insides of those outside. We're all connected. This is a brief cross-section of humanity dissected.