Friday, October 26, 2012

The seeing and heartiness of heated drivers

The biggest failure in life is not the finer details of a failed assignment or to endure the grinding toil of waiting for a better things to happen or fronting an appearance all is well because I smile on cue. The greatest enemy is when I don't care anymore about being someone worth listening to and I let my autism entice me into familiar but dreaded isolation and into the world of repeats of old movie lines that makes me feel in control.

I am not a nervous bag of everything my body dictates my slow movements, my inaccurate movement, my great chins of centres on nothing useful nothing productive nothing nothing nothing except the repeats of movie lines looping. I am the thief of my time and at the whim of the touch that sets my body and brain in synch and I am for a generous but fleeting moment free to let my real thoughts trickle out one letter at a time. The jealous side of me rises when I can hear people write and speak so freely so wastefully and so quickly. Everything if I could give and more to type and speak my mind anytime I chose to and not be dependent on someone to help me. I am desolate without Mia and Matt and it frightens me that I can lose my voice and disappear into insanity inducing loneliness and despairing blackness.

It is going to be hard and journey requires friends. I find this so hard. Lip service acquaintances who ask me how I am but don't stick around to know how I really a m frustrates me yet it is often this or nothing at all. I don't think people really want to know because they wouldn't know what to say or how to continue waiting for me to type.

Why do people just want to have good fast entertaining chats and not be accommodating? I am thankful for the rare gems who do want to be a true friend. I hope this dreadfully sad post can identify with a person who like me drives with an unreliable automobile of a body but still wants to reach their destination with some true friends.

[Typing time: 57mins]

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