adventure time: literary labyrinth

On Wednesday, my boyfriend and I went on a "tumblr-esque" adventure of sorts, meaning yes, I stumbled on a reblog about The Last Bookstore, fell in love, looked it up, and told him about it. Before we know it, we were well on our way to Downtown LA.

I swear, we've been spoiled by the wide, two way streets of suburbia. Despite the short commute between our town and DTLA, we don't go there often, so the long stretches of narrow, one way streets left us a bit frantic, but we were able to manage nonetheless. We actually talked about whether we would mind living in the city or not, and we both settled on not minding it at all, we'd just need to get used to the street culture, because it does vary from here to there.

So we finally arrived at The Last Bookstore after beating LA traffic and parked at a structure around the block for about $4, which I suppose wasn't that bad--I still wish they had some sort of validated parking though. Walking through the streets made me feel a bit of a paradoxical wanderlust, because despite so many buildings and places being closed or up for lease, it felt like there was still a ton to explore. 

Walking into The Last Bookstore felt like a dream--so much that the entrance--where you're supposed to leave your bags and stuff--felt like the threshold separating the concrete streets of downtown Los Angeles and a literary wonderland. Every inch and corner and bookshelf seemed to carry a "hipster-like" ambience, which by the way shouldn't be taken the wrong way. What I mean is that the entire structure really embodied the great concept of what it means to lose yourself inside a book, which was only emphasized with the Labyrinth. 

So that I won't spoil any more of this utopia for anyone, I'll just stop here and post some pictures.

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