I felt like writing this post due to something I have done wrong today, that speaks volumes about my life and my general state of mind these past few days. The thirtieth of June is when my city celebrates that in the nineteenth century we frustrated an attempt by the Napoleonic army to invade us, or whatever. Can’t say I care much about the actual details. I don’t celebrate festivities in general, nor my own birthday, but I dread such days because I’m forced to keep the peace with my family by attending the reunions. This time I was tasked to do one single thing: grab a take-out order because my parents were busy. I was told when I was supposed to walk into that store and grab the order. I wrote it on Google Calendar. After a morning in which I barely managed to write anything, let alone study for my upcoming exam, I went out and appeared at the store, only to be told by the shopkeeper that the order was supposed to take an hour longer.

The guy started apologizing, suggesting that he probably heard the order wrong or got confused when writing down the time. I told him that it was my fault. In any case, he was kind enough to cook the order and have it ready fifty minutes ahead of time.

When I left that shop, I was feeling like shit. How can any thirty-eight-year-old guy be able to fuck up something as easy as getting to a place at the specific time told a few hours earlier, written even on his calendar? I’m not surprised, of course, because stuff like this has happened over and over throughout my life. It’s pure executive dysfunction, a common part of being autistic. Your brain drops part of sequential logic of organizing something, to the extent that you screw it up as if you were a child. To curb this natural tendency of my brain to sabotage my life, at work I constantly walk around with a notebook and a pen. I write every step of every task, and when I’m applying a solution, I triple-check the results. I still screw up from time to time. Maybe I should give myself a break; I’m 52% disabled according to the local government. Doesn’t change how I feel, though.

And this happened after a few days during which I’ve been in a “fuck everything” kind of mood. I can barely write. I haven’t studied for the exam that I must pass in sixteen days so that I keep getting called to work as an IT guy at public hospitals, a job I don’t want to do and that I can’t tolerate for long periods of time. At the family reunion, I have kept my head down, unwilling to make eye contact particularly with the couple of relatives of my brother’s wife, who brought over their screaming baby (not the kid’s fault, of course). Yet another psychological and sensorial assault I had to endure so that my family members don’t make my life less manageable than it already is.

Unfortunately, I’m up-to-date with the mortifying riots in France, that are happening next door and that have spread to Belgium because they share the same demographic problems. I expect us in Spain, as well as throughout Europe, to suffer similar riots in about ten years. The president of France, that weasely minion of the WEF, has blamed the riots on video games, and has pushed for more censorship of social media. For all we know, they wanted riots such as these to present themselves as saviors by proposing digital IDs, a central digital currency, a social score system, fifteen-minute cities, etc. They openly talk about wanting to get rid of most private cars; during the riots, the government suspended public transport. Good luck fleeing anywhere when these video game addicts, armed with AK-47s and screaming islamic battle cries, burn down the stores in your bulding block, if not set fire to your entire apartment building. Ask what happened to many Swedes who couldn’t move out of their conquered neighborhoods. George Orwell said that if you want a picture of the future, you should imagine a foot stamping on a human face, for ever. To picture it more easily, just watch the movie Children of Men.

I have been wanting to feel a bit better, partly to ease the guilt of knowing that I should be studying but I can’t be arsed to (it has always been extremely hard for me to focus on anything I don’t care about). I put on a couple of movies, but they didn’t hold my attention. Same with a twenty-five-minute-long anime episode. Played through the intro of Baldur’s Gate 3 yet again to check out recent updates, but knowing that the full game is coming out in August made progressing further quite pointless. In the end I relied on the tried and true: I put on my VR headset, loaded up some 3D porn and masturbated the pain away. These silly brains get tricked so easily that VR-induced orgasms feel better than the real thing as I remember it from my wilder youth. During my time off writing, I don’t know why I bother doing anything else than masturbating. People are unbearable, and the world is going to hell.

Congratulations on bothering to read this shit.