text: I chuckled at the thought, because the photo had actually made me think of her. I turned to walk out of my room. But was greeted by my bedroom door it was open. I walked over to the door which was about half open. I pulled the door, and was now facing the rest of my apartment. It was small, and I hadn't bothered to fill it with meaningless material. All that it filled was the bare essentials. Fridge, oven, sink, and a desk in the corner. Which i never used do to me always being at the library, do to my work. I was the Liberian at my university or at least one of them. It was something I held with great glee. Because I spent most of my shift reading, it felt like I was devouring the library in its entirety some days. I would finish four to five books most days, and with that people started to take notice with my habits, and had started to call me nietzsche, thou not my real name I grew to enjoy it. They had been using me as an encyclopedia for there studies for about two months now. Just the other day a small women about 25 had walked to the front desk. I was in the process of memorizing the entirety of crime and punishment tell she quietly said my name slowly nie-tzsch-e. I looked up and saw her, she was a small skinny woman with a bright pink jacket that had what appeared glitter all over it. She was looking at a slip of paper very confused. She said my name again, and asked if it was me I told her yes it was. She looked relieved, and had asked me for help finding this dumb book, but she didn't know the name. I asked her what she could remember, but was little help. She just kept saying A, and B side. It was a real challenge, because A, and B could have meant anything. But I came to the conclusion that she was referring to kierkegaard. I asked, but she started to look more confused. I got up from my desk, and walked over to the shelf labeled Librarian's picks, and pulled a small book out called Either or. Her face had exploded with happiness she had started to ramble compliments towards me. I walked the book over to desk, and checked it out for her. But it had bothered me she had looked at the books as dumb pieces of paper. I pushed it behind me, and went about my day. I walked to the empty space i call my living room, and took a sit at my deck. I pull one of the desk drawers, and began to sift through the paper, I pulled out a small leather book, placing it on the old wooden desk. It was my little calendar, it would save me from time to time because I would forget what I would plan for that day. I turned the pages to the day, and to my grief it was blank. I had nothing to do today.