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I’ve lived here for—how long have I lived here for—I don’t remember, and I
don’t want to look it up. As usual, I didn’t bother meeting my neighbors. This
isn’t ever some kind of intentional effort on my part, where I avoid them like
the plague. It’s not that I think that we won’t get along, though let’s be
fair, we probably won’t. It’s just that I don’t give it much thought. The
first day when I move into a new place, I’m busy doing that. The second day is
about figuring out how my daily behavior is going to change. The next few days
are about implementing those changes, seeing what works, and rethinking
accordingly. After that, I’ve established a routine, and while I can alter it
as necessary, I pretty much stick to what I know until it becomes too
inconvenient, and I have to come up with new solutions. Other people don’t
factor into it unless they were a part of it before, such as my family back on
my homeworld. Meeting people is not something that I’ve ever been
interested in. I’ve tried to ask a number of neurotypicals what the point of
getting to know new friends is. Not one of them has been able to explain
why exactly they like it. They act like it’s a biological imperative,
like eating, or propagating the species. And it’s true to some degree.
Evolution favors life-preserving traits, and humans have survived through
tribal collaboration. But that’s not really what that is, is it? The only
tribe that I need is currently around five billion strong. If I need a coat,
I know where to go. If I need help getting a door open because my hands are
full, someone nearby will likely oblige. I wouldn’t expect to have to foster
some strong relationship with that person. In fact, if true connection is
something that they required before helping in such a small way, we would all
probably consider them not that great of a person. I’m not going to become
friends with people just so they’ll open the door for me, because I don’t want
to be associated with someone who won’t open the door for a stranger. My point
is that whatever joy you experience by getting to know others is not inherent
to your survival, which means that it is not necessarily universal. To be
sure, it’s not even true for me, and I’m sure there are plenty of others. It
doesn’t make us misanthropic hermits either. I think it’s perfectly reasonable
for a beekeeper to only want to be friends with other beekeepers, for
instance. Of course, this kind of mentality has the potential to lead to
prejudice and otherism, but it doesn’t have to. I’m not a beekeeper, I’m just
me. My interests don’t align well with others. For one, the things that I used
to love don’t exist in this universe, such as Stargate. But also, loving
Stargate has never been my entire identity, and I didn’t find myself enjoying
being in the company of other fans, for reasons that I won’t get into. I think
that I just don’t want to be around people who are like me any more than I
want to be around people who aren’t like me. Again, it’s not that I
hate you; it’s just that that’s not how I choose to live in the world. Anyway,
my neighbor suddenly invited me to dinner tonight, so we’ll see how that goes.
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