33 Hundred Words of True Detective Nerd Rage

Right now, as I’m typing this, it’s 10:30 PM, Sunday, August 9th. I don’t care if I stay up all night to finish this essay, I’m refusing to let myself go to sleep until it’s done. I want to hold on to how triggered I am right now. I know this sounds like a lot of nerd rage, and because I think a lot of it is nerd rage. I’m getting angry over a the season finale of a TV show. It’s incredibly childish and asinine of me. But I’m an emotionally stunted 21 year old autiste, so bear with me here.

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