Dissentive Sentiments of a Realist: My safe sanctuary in the middle of the city...

...where silence prevails, my only company happens to be in the form of paper-bundled sources of joy, and I'm free to nibble at pieces of controversial information whilst forgoing the interrogation directed at me due to too narrow horizons. In retrospect, where I can be free.
You may have guessed what I'm referring to ; a 4 and 1/2 floor bookshop where I'm often found: Eleftheroudakis.Albeit overpriced, the unfortunate lack of love towards Amazon shown by my parents has forced me to seek resources for my education the old-fashioned, passe according to the masses, quite unrewarding way; by visiting bookshops. Woe upon modern society!
Feel free to exclaim how uninterested you are in my shallow sentiments concerning bookshops - I'm afraid the best way you could deal with such an issue would be by foregoing to indulge in this post , fully. If you're the persistent, predictable type I would advice you to rethink visiting this journal ever again, and attempt to spend your limited time on this planet elsewhere...
Commencing the real reason for existing of this post:

In today's consumeristic society, the vast majority of the populus enjoys cashing out on shiny, sometimes expensive, always attached to uncontemplated consequences, most importantly new things. Even I, a confessed foe of consumerism am sometimes dazzled by the prospect of increasing my collection of wasted trees - to elaborate, books!
Bear with me, as I nod in agreement with Gilbert Highet;

“These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves.”

and since I was provided with a 90$ cheque by my school for winning a bunch of awards through-out the school year I only ever looked forward to the day I'd be able to help those pieces of paper materialise...

...and they did.