being autistic is beautiful and then you're afraid of abandonment because your brain has picked up on the exact patterns that signal another loss and then you step outside and there are patterns in the sky in the grass in every touch and every laugh. someone looks at you and there is a shift in their gaze to tell you "i know you're wrong. you are something wrong." something between pity and embarrassment and you want to rip it out of your body for a second and then you listen to music and the euphoria makes it all worth it because they could never experience this joy. you're sky-high. you look in the mirror and your eyes appear inexplicably vacant and then you read about how so many autistic kids are cleverer than everyone else as children and then the opposite afterwards. at a certain age you equalise. you grow sharper teeth and you bite off more than you can chew and you chew it all anyway. there's spring in the air and your brain functions like a scattergraph and when you think about it hard enough it's impossible not to fall in love. if you're an alien you're a lovely one. one day you fall in love and you know it's more intense than it should be but you love her anyway, knowing how it will end. are you invented for grief? are you invented for love, carrying grief?
truthfully being autistic puts a gun full of love to your head. i will always be a little bit more alone than everyone else but the shades of green seperate into a spectrum of feeling and this schematic of an engine is a poem to progress and every song i love is a holy hymn and when your brain is a scattergraph, once you love something, you love everything. you're more alone than everyone else and the least lonely creature on earth, even in isolation.
![digital art of a bumper sticker. It reads: “I [drawing of two people’s hands in a way that suggests they’re having sex] someone with autism.”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/da7258b7308a1bfbe37ce3c19f55a8c1/a6e388e9831c6453-ed/s1280x1920/df260916ecdaf323efa92d6a8a40e8467c5de1b9.png)
