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Title: Entry - 002
Date of Occurrence: 03-26-26XX
Date Released: 04-07-26XX
I arrive at the library, one of the only places in my current life that I feel safe and enjoy. I was already in a bit of a mood, but I knew that the coffee in my hand would soon soothe the gremlin inside my being. Or at least, I thought.
I make my way to the fourth floor, to sit on the spot I have claimed to be mine: a corner that sits between the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city park across the street, and a little hidden book nook full of outdated science encyclopedias. Around me are all kinds of people. Some work on business projects, other play video games, while others watch full movies on the library computers. I head to my little corner. Where I sit, there is no computer, only a light and a charging station, perfect for my own setup: a small laptop and my drawing pad.
I arrive at my spot. Across from me, to the left, an older man is browsing on the library computer.
I put my backpack on the empty table, and as I am about to open my bag, the old man turns around and looks at me. He is visibly bothered by my presence.
But I should be the one who is bothered. Why? On his screen is picture after picture of young women in bikinis. Their poses for the cameras incenuate they are doing it for attention. If only they knew who's attention they were grabbing.
I quickly analyze the situation. He isn't looking at any particular website, on the contrary, I'm sure he has only went to a social media site and typed on the search bar "black women, big boobs", for he doesn't seem to be clever enough to go through the library's firewall to look at any other type of site which could contain even "worse" pictures.
So he looks at me, bothered by my presence and lack of reaction. I'm not phased by it due to my constant observation of these men. They are all senile decrepit old flaccid men, who due to their own rot, choose to spend their free will - and free library wifi - on glazing their eyes with the images on women who are 3 to 4 times younger than they are.
This of course is not the only observation. Oh no. It is a recurring theme. Old men, grey frizelled hair, sit at the library computers with their heads clued to the screen, as videos of young dancers shake their massive behinds on camera.
Now, don't get me wrong, all the power to these women. I cannot twerk to save my life. But I find it doubtful that their target audiences are nasty old dirty (literally, they probably haven't showered in days) men who watch their videos and comment something like: "nice a$$, bb gurl".
This obviously could turn into a bigger argument on more topics than I can possibly list here, however, that's not the full story.
You see. I decided to stand my ground. I wasn't gonna move. I like my corner. So I sat, opened my laptop, put on my headphones and watched as he turned back around, closed the tab of the semi-half naked women, and opened a new movie streaming platform on a new tab. He slightly turned his screen to face away from me, probably trying to save any ounce of illusory dignity he might still have from the shame my presence has made surface, and browsed for the next half hour, which ultimately resulted in him watching a movie for fifteen minutes and then leaving the library entirely.