How it feels to live in my autistic innerworld


the silent wave

Come, my pretties. I’m picking up hitchhikers today, in the safest of senses. We’re not climbing into my truck; we’re climbing into my brain.

My brain can be perceived as a map, with different towns representing concepts, subjects, and miscellaneous thoughts. The roads between them link them together in unusual ways, with scenic winding routes and express, direct flights between towns one might not expect, but somehow manage to make sense.

It’s a busy place, with lots of traffic. Everything gets to move, all things are considered. That ant crawling on the balcony railing? Gets a perspective, as I imagine life and the universe through its eyes. There’s no reason it doesn’t deserve it.

And so it is with everything else, too.

There are some shortcuts, too, like a Favorites directory of most-visited links along the margin of an Internet browser. Shortcuts to unusual topics that the average mind of…

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