Trouble staying put was one of the nicer ways to call the kind of life Anarchism led. Possessing no permanent address, no place he called home, no furniture, no job, no social security number, no driving licence, no car, he existed in a peculiar space of no-ownership which by logic should have no place in the kind of world they lived in. Yet, it matched his deeply ingrained aversion to ownership.
"Better save it for someone who knows what to do with gifts." Although he had no problems with sending gifts, receiving them always put him through the weirdest and most painful contortions imaginable.
"If they've never had any, then there's no way they could know, of course." Tapping a finger against the menu absent-minded, Kolya lifted his gaze and let it wander. "But knowing what the real thing tastes like is not necessary for consuming and enjoying the imitations. It's all about make-believe and call it faith if you will or trust. They simply trust the manufacturers to be honest with them and they believe that whatever the small black print on the label tells them is true. This group isn't different from any other consumer group just because it chooses not to live off the carcasses of animals.
"It still believes in the system as a whole, the same system everyone believes in and the system is doing a perfect job of incorporating and accommodating this particular lifestyle. Subversion crushed." Cocking an eyebrow, he snapped the menu shut with a little too much force. "I'm sorry, I meant averted."