When They Break the Rules

This is so much like I was, and not like I was at that age. I always found eye contact the hardest thing, over the left shoulder was always more interesting.

If you want to talk with me, alongside me is always better than opposite me.

Now on with the reblog.

Scribbles of an Autist

When they break the rules

Instead of breaking me

That’s when I will be


But eye contact burns!

That’s what I told her. I will not say her name, because I cannot remember and she would get fired. Her hair was in a ponytail, like mine, and unlike me she wore makeup.

That is not why she’s beautiful, not why any human being is. Truly, it’s because of what she did that day, as an ABA therapist. I’m sure she never thought of it that way, or if she had, she definitely was not like most humans.


She turns her head around, quickly, a few times.

Instead of looking at my eyes, how about my forehead and nose? She asks. I nod, but am still confused, and so I laugh.

Like the Bermuda Triangle? But people are going to notice that! I claim. I mean all people, but she…

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