One of my literary mentors took me to task for writing about one of his own idols without reading deeply enough into it, and it soured my mood enough that my drunk older brother and my other brother’s son got on my nerves and I had to excuse myself from playing cards with my family. I know I should get over it, but the feeling of great disappointment in myself just won’t lift. The joys of being an autistic NEET that puts stock in what internet acquaintances say more than my own flesh and blood.