The Normaling.

 

Image result for robot in the desert

So day another passes. It is midnight now as I write this and I am as void of ideas as I have ever been. Still I have no will to write. I feel fogged most of the time. Tired and then restless. I am a General without a plan of attack. Too much stagnation. Morale is down. Too many battles from all sides to be fought. To many places to sack. Or, maybe I think wrong. Maybe, I should think of things like a dance or some kind of light spirited game which I lose at often. I must behave like a normal man. I must look and find some job. I must look and find some woman.

 

Image result for robot in bed

I must look and find a real apartment. I must look and get a car and insurance and mortgage and then have missionary sex with the wife. Then after some time think of retirement. All these human awfulness. Which, though I say awfulness I seek to be part of. I want to play poker with friends. I want to discuss politics. I want to meet someone for lunch. I want to be invited to a game night. I want to walk in the woods with friends. Take silly photos to post on social media. But I am a robot. I cannot do those things. I will unsettle people as I always do. I will scare them off. I will continue to flail. I DO NOT FIT IN.

Image result for robot people

I will weird them out with how authentic I seem, and yet they will feel the otherness inside them. I am not a good enough actor to mask my HF-Autism self, totally. Is TV real life. Is that how people interact? Barrages of sarcasm? Well I guess I can do that! I am willing to be a sarcasm hip fellow if you need one. I await your lack of response.

Signed,

Andre “The Android” Melendez.

 

 

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The Normaling.

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