You’re killing independent George!

I’m shopping with my sister.  I’ve spent most of the time on Twitter, thank goodness.  I don’t hate shopping, I just prefer to do it at a store that sells computer hardware and electronics, or musical instruments and accessories.  I’ve been wearing my headphones the whole time.  My Shure 840’s, not some unobtrusive earbuds.  It seems to me that it’s not possible to stand out in NYC, which is one of my favorite aspects so far.  I spent lots of time earlier trying to get my sister to accept that Bernie Sanders is a much better candidate for POTUS than any of the others running.  She was hoping to vote for Jeb Bush.  Sigh.  I did get her to admit that he’s a better option than Trump or Cruz.

Her generation still thinks of communist democracy as too close to communist.  It started our discussion on the differences, and the fact that corruption ruins any form of government.  After showing her screen shots of facts about Denmark, I think I made some headway.  However, she asked me to focus on something else for a while.  It reminds me of when I was in high school, and was on the debate team.  I was a good debater, but best at extemporaneous speech.  This amuses me, considering I can’t even talk out loud when I’m burned out.  The first time I won a plaque for extemp, I remember how shocked everyone was on the bus ride home.  Our debate coach was the most surprised, but he entered me every time thereafter.

I was only on the debate team in the first place because my Mom insisted I take that instead of regular speech class.  I was dreading them both, but in hindsight, she knew what she was doing.  We had breakfast at some fancy restaurant this morning.  I felt awkward.  I have zero appreciation for luxury that serves no purpose aside from appearances.  It just feels ridiculous.  Children are starving down the street, and we’re eating overpriced pastries.  What a fucked up world we live in.  I like all the walking in NYC.  I’ve seen some pretty nice murals, and even some nice tags.  I bet there’s an artist within 100 feet of me at all times.  That alone explains the city’s appeal.  At least to me.  We ordered the sofa in a custom fabric for my new place.  There were a lot more options than I expected.  I went with a pale pink that felt soft.  Like chenille, or similar.  I also picked out a rug in light grey with a subtle cream floral pattern.

I’m tired from so much sound and smells and new sights.  I’m holding it together okay, but part of me wants to retreat to a quiet corner and hide under a blanket for a few years.  I’ll be going home tomorrow, accompanied by my nephew and sister.  They are going on to Denver after a short stay at my place.  My nephew purchased an acreage and they are breaking ground on a site for development.  I doubt I’ll go along.  I miss my cat.  And my weighted blanket.  I do like the diversity here, though.  It’s so cool to me to be able to see so many different people going about their business in harmony.  It gives me hope for the future.

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