Take notes. I’m old and ruined. I drive a dirt bike. Fixed for Road Trips. I am autistic. “He’s too old to ride a dirt bike.” Ghosting is easy. My policy is to only know young people. Anyone can talk the talk. Walking the walk is different. And I can just disappear. I like throwing the Normals out of my life. They have a real passion for Everyone Must Be Like Them. The Finger. Age is probably illegal. You cannot control me. I mask. Tight. As a teacher, my students were the bad ones. Some, recognized the autism right away. Most did not. I’ve gotten rid of cars, television, the lust for technology. The boss. I have no human empathy. All homo sapiens are evil. I am exhausted with intolerance projected at me by Normals. I get into bar fights. I live out of one bag. That alone makes them think I must be crazy to not want stuff. I can get on the bike and never see you again. Age and Autism are my second selves. Davis is right. Mental acuity and age are realities you don’t want to talk about. It means, You, Too. Right up there with Mental Health. They have no idea how to deal with neurodivergence. Frankly I do not care. What The Children Want. I do not care about what anyone wants. In school, they just wanted to beat the neurodivergence out by slapping my face in class. Other people are the enemy. Aging just makes it spit. The only way I can mask myself from the demanding evil humanity is to live in the woods. You don’t age in the woods. You begin to see everything.