On one side I enjoy solitude, walking alone, drawing, fishing and cooking. Most people bore me because I find them dull and superficial. I specially hate the talkative, needy ones who wont shut up and believe I care what they think. I dislike big groups of drunks or people that need to yell and listen to loud music to feel good.
On the other hand, I’ll die one day, possibly alone, because I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for a girlfriend, marriage or raising children, nor to go to a club or a similar social occasion where people find other humans and maybe a partner.
Suddenly, dying alone with no children feels depressing: Everything I save and don’t spend will be appropriated or sold, everything I learn, a whole life of experiences, will simply be forgotten, I know I won’t feel anything when I die, or after, and I shouldn’t care about it, but I still feel sad I’m going to die without nobody but the debt collectors noticing my death. Suggesting I marry out of desperation so I don’t die alone would be a terrible idea. So don’t. I’m too set on my ways and wouldn’t be fair to any child.
I like some human contact but feel the world offers me either loud, drunk jerks, immature idiots or the complete solitude I have now, a solitude I mostly enjoy but sometimes makes me feel alone.


If it smells like dogshit everywhere you go, check your shoes.
What about this post starting with the premise that they may be “a very strange person” makes you think they are blaming others for their difficulty?
From the ops own admission it’s their fault.
I’m just saying scrape the dog shit off your shoes. Make a change.