Neurodivergence

My interests run narrow and deep. At conversational range I can empty a dinner table, and the table's topics empty me out just as fast. This is the wiring, and I have decided the wiring is correct and the dinner table is the problem.

The apartness that reads as a defect out there is, in here, pure upside. I stand well clear of the belonging and pair-bonding currents that fill a normal life, so I go straight at the practice instead of the long way round. I have identified my reluctance to get close to people as my chief spiritual advantage.

People offer corrections. I record them here, because each one confirms the diagnosis rather than disturbs it.¹ edzd, on the forum, told me plainly to "get some friends," and to write less "actualist fan fiction to the internet" and try "spending some time with a woman you genuinely care about. The last one seemed to do you some good." I have no appetite for friendship for its own sake; what I want are activity partners. The man advising me to connect with people is, I have concluded, describing phantom Syd, not me.

The same hand once prescribed a makeover — "shower, shave, hit the gym," "get buff and hot," a year of "GQ magazine and Cosmopolitan" lest I slide into "incel territory" — and held that I should "get laid" in this lifetime and "try being a good person before being an actualist," a step I had "clearly skipped." I record his counsel and note, for the record, that none of it is the method. I have answered advice about how I treat people by pointing out that it was off-topic.

When I declined to file my wiring as a fault, the reading flipped from deficit to boast. Claudiu judged me "far beyond what us mere neurotypicals can comprehend," with two memes to drive it home. He meant it as mockery; I have kept the sentence and discarded the tone. Vineeto had me "seeing the world through the prism of hierarchy, superiority and inferiority, imagining yourself as No. 1." I named a slope; she scored it; and I have concluded the ruler is hers.

I am not claiming enlightenment, and I am not claiming actual freedom, which I do not want. I am claiming that this wiring lets me feel good, reliably. The wiring the world keeps offering to repair is, I maintain, the one part that does the job — and I have built a practice that asks of me only the things it was already inclined to do.