Identifying as the Hater Who was Hated

There's a low-functioning, unsuccessful narcissist sitting in the corner of some bar in Los Angeles. His name is Matthew. But could I be wrong? Maybe I've made too many mistakes, and alcohol is one of my last sources of solace now. 

"You have a type of autism I don't have," Ronald tells Matt before taking another sip of his beer. He believes he can see right through me.

"I don't think I have autism. I'm just narcissistic."

"A narcissistic sociopath?" Ronald wonders out loud.

"A narcissist in sheep's clothing. At least I'm not bragging about how I was so pro-Palestine that I got banned from Instagram. I'm not bragging to anyone because I'm too ashamed."

"You should be," Ronald says while staring at Matt.

"I didn't laugh when I watched someone die on the Internet."

"No, you did worse than that. You wished for your enemies to suffer."

"It was a temper tantrum. I didn't really mean anything by it."

"You expect me to believe you didn't know I was Jewish?"

"You never told me you were and I never asked. I had no idea. I thought you were white trash. I didn't understand why you stopped talking to me. I was hoping to have a new friend. Unfortunately, I attract the Far Left."

"Don't flatter yourself. I lied to you. Don't you know you're on a list of Far Right extremists?"

"What? I've never heard of such a thing. Are we so intolerant that we now make lists of our enemies--?"

"You deserve it."

"So every thought I have now is evidence to be used against me."

"What on earth did you expect? What, are you crazy? Please stop exaggerating."

"I'm not exaggerating. This is how I feel. I'm not happy in this world. Its conflicts and violence make me want to hurl. I'm tired of hearing about what's wrong with our world. Can't we hear some good news too?"

"The Good News is that you're receiving the Second Death for being a sinner. And not just any sinner, but a bad actor, a malicious fascist faggot who hates everyone, including his mom."

"I don't hate my mom. We don't always get along. So... we've hurt each other over the years, and I guess we don't really trust one another anymore now. Maybe we trust each other too much? I guess we lack boundaries. She's going to die one day. She's my only friend."

"That's not good."

"Why?"

"Because you'll always be alone."

"You're right, I'll always be alone no matter what. That's a definite possibility. And I have to accept it because there's no way out. All we have is each other on this planet. Sex and romance aren't everything. And even true friendships don't always last."

"You're transparent to me, Matt. I see through your projections, evasions, and denials. You're pure evil. You don't love yourself. You hate me."

"I don't hate you. I just want a friend I can talk to, but I perfectly understand if you like trans people more than gay men like me. In fact, I encourage you to find more trans friends."

...

Matt finally finds the nerve to greet her with his robotic words and yellow teeth: "Hello. How are you?"

"Don't talk to me; I don't know you," she says.

"Can I buy you a drink for last call? I'm lonely."

The thin, inexorably beautiful brunette named Alice takes her last sip from her drink before saying, "Get lost, fascist faggot."

Matt leaves the bar knowing that he will not turn to pornography, alcohol, or sweet junk food.