red_leaf_dancer (katuah) wrote,

of owls and black t shirts

2015 was far in the future when I was a kid, a world unimaginable, not quite far enough for Star Trek but too far to simply extrapolate the normal. And now here I am, and it seems like a painfully banal dystopian novel, the kind I would never voluntarily have read but which an English teacher would assign as an exercise in understanding subtle character motivation. Brazil crossed with Gatsby.

I avoided much of the relatives obligatory holiday visit, by way of my coming down with a bad cold and therefore being excused from socializing. Such an interesting term, that - kind of like conditioning. I am supposed to want to drink beer, watch sports, and make toity conversation. Apparently.
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