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  • Writer's pictureSatire

Our Beloved Library

It’s Time I Spoke the Truth

By Khreshnee Thayabaran

Photo Credit: ErikaWittlieb via Pixabay

I would like to preface this article with the statement that I have nothing against SDR. I feel like this is something I must say to cover my back because I will admit that the library scares the living bejesus out of me. I’m stating this because I keep thinking back to the whole ‘being exceedingly nice to any sort of AI for their inevitable takeover’ thing, so if I set up the pretence of having no prior negative emotions then that’s my a** covered from that library. Anyway, now I got that over with- I’d like to explore the deep seated, almost inexplicable fear I get from this looming, slightly out of place piece of architecture.

Now I know the premise of this is absolutely insane, (it’s an inanimate building what the h**** are you on), but I swear this building has a mind of its own. Much like that one Doctor Who episode with the House and the nephew and something. I think the main reason I believe this is due to the elevators in that place. Every other day they are out of order, and that then feeds into the perpetual fear of it breaking down whilst you are still in it. Imagine, you’re casually going to whatever floor you are going to study on (5th is the correct answer thank you) and then it stops. You are now stuck between the 6th and 7th floor and you can swear you hear a slight evil maniacal chuckle of the elevator shifts. Don't worry, this is not a sign of insanity- you’re just incredibly perceptive and on it.

After this spine-chilling ordeal, you now arrive at the next part of your harrowing journey to study. Looking for a seat, especially during exam season, when the percentage within SDR skyrockets from 17% to 95% and almost every seat has been taken is a nightmare. You must sit next to somebody on a table, or even worse--directly opposite them. Now enters the awkward stage of accidentally making prolonged eye contact with the stranger before the silent challenge of ‘which person leaves their place and studies first’. It almost always ends up in tears- I cry very easily. I do have a solution however, to combat the space issue in the library during this fearful season. Simply remove all the bookshelves! We don’t need books, that’s a ridiculous assumption. Especially for the library- we have computers for that stuff. The countless introductory lectures we had on navigating Primo way back in first year was not because it helped us with secondary sources- it was just foreshadowing the eventual ban of all books in the library. Obviously.

Through the hard work that is done without an ounce of distraction, sustenance is needed. This is where a different kind of fear stems in, financial fear. I did not think I would need to sell my left kidney to afford some of the food that Aberbean sells. Granted, it’s a super cute name for the café, but the prices- not so cute. The lentil crisps? Over £2. This mere fact keeps me up at night, the stem of my insomnia. How can this be, such a miniature thing amounting to my entire bank account? Seems fishy and targeted I don’t know. Again, I think this is just the entire building’s fault. It plans everything I tell you. At night specifically, after midnight when every poor student and staff straggles back home, the ghostly occurrence (who you gonna call…) of self-written prices for food and yet another elevator breakdown is being scheduled. The reign of the constant terror filled days caused by the Sir Duncan Rice Library continues.


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