"All train compartments smell vaguely of shit. It gets so you don't mind it. That's the worst thing that I can confess. You know how long it took me to get there? A long time. When you die you're going to regret the things you don't do. You think you're queer? I'm going to tell you something: we're all queer. You think you're a thief? So what? You get befuddled by a middle-class morality? Get shut of it. Shut it out. You cheat on your wife? You did it, live with it. You fuck little girls, so be it. There's an absolute morality? Maybe. And then what? If you think there is, go ahead, be that thing. Bad people go to hell? I don't think so. If you think that, act that way. A hell exists on earth? Yes. I won't live in it. That's me."
--Ricky Roma (Al Pacino) in Glenngary Glen Ross
I think I might have a mild form of autism. Not a lot, just a touch. Enough to make me completely oblivious to the underlying meaning in the actions and words of others without really hindering me in a crippling way. I take too many things at face value. Reading between the lines is difficult for me. As a result, I end up in an unpleasant place of my own making. Then--the real kicker in it all--I obsess over what I did wrong and continue to kick myself for doing so.
This is the hell I've created for myself in this life. This is the pattern I see as I look back on all the experiences that make me who I am now. I've decided to "get shut of it". New home. New life. New me.
I can't change my inability to read other people, but I can do something about how I react to it.
A hell exists on earth? Yes. I won't live in it. That's me.
Oh, and why the vomit face at me?