The sense that such a choice is being made furthers the illusion, pulling me from reality, supposedly. And the twist, as I ponder if I am the man screaming at the wall as onlookers pass, glancing in confusion, going about their day. I ponder if there is any validly to the sense of obligation to remove the commodity from my life in order to realize a genuine connection. Am I the mad man screaming at the wall? There are those who stare at the wall, admiring its beauty without care or discontent.