“Hey, do you realise what I say is distinctly different from what you say. We are two different schools of thought under the same roof.”
“Sure, we are. But we have the same set of visitors lounging around and deep-diving into our core.”
“Maybe they are using their set of analytical tools to understand evolution of thought…”
“We are only bricks in the structure of thought, and contribute our mite to a larger process.”
“You make me think. I never thought I am almost irrelevant.”
“You are not. Enjoy the world passing by, shapeshifting, evolving, transforming… We are witnesses to history, not just small contributors.”
“I want to leave this shelf and become a writer.”
“I’ll be happy to have your books in my corner.”
The library is silent. Nobody hears the camaraderie, the mirth and connection between different levels of thought.
If they did, it would sound like a satire.