CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
hhj jklg bored
bored
bored
bored
bored
no point doing thing syou don't enjoy
I don't enjoy anything
g
gGOOD GAWD ALLMIGHT
lol
people have "faith" in "god"
that's prettty stupid
not as stupid as being me
but even if I did have "faith" in "god"
I'D STILL BE ME
I'd still have me bio-chemcial make-up
I'd still fear all human contact
things would still feel wrong
all the time
I need hellppg
_________--
I need someone to tell me what to do...then do it for me.
____________
Sandpaper, that's what it felt like.
He was sitting alone. The tv was on but he wasn't watching it. It wasn't even background noise, he'd completely tuned it out. He'd completely tuned everything out. He was alone in every way it's possible to be alone. Time was passing and it felt like sandpaper on his skin.
Well, not exactly like sandpaper. He feels the need to clarify that it didn't feel like exactly like sandpaper. None of his autistic "feelings" feel exactly like anything else. But for the purpose of this short interlude he will say it felt like sandpaper.
It felt like sandpaper.
He sat. He thought of moving but there would be no point. No point in even thinking of moving. He thought of changing the tv channel but there would be no point. No point in thinking of changing the tv channel. No point in thinking.
He stopped thinking.
It wasn't a conscious chocie to stop thinking. When you make a conscious choice to stop thinking, you're thinking about stopping thinking. He just stopped thinking.
For a moment he ceased to exist and the sandpaper was gone.
He popped back into existence and the sandpaper was back. Mild frustration made a half-assed effort to make itself felt, but gave up quickly.
It occured to him that there must have been a time when he was alive and but no conscious of himself, not sentient, and, at some point, he must have just popped into existence, like he just had there.
So, really, dying was nothing to fear, he concluded. He wasn't sure how he actually reached that conclusion but it felt right.
He continued to sit, waiting to die.
He didn't die.
But eventually he couldn't even feel the sandpaper anymore. That was good. That was progress.
He went to bed, woke up, and did it all again.
It felt different from sandpaper, when the feeling returned, but it was the same feeling. He tried to come up with some words to describe it, but decided to lie face down on his couch instead. He though he'd made the right choice. He probably had.
___________
ALL I AM
IS THIS
.
SEE
LOL IT's JUST A DOT
SMALL YOU KNOW
GET IT
I'M SMALL
RAGADJKLASgasgjklsklgjklagjklajklg
LOL SEE THAT
THAT'S ME HOWLING INTO THE NIGHT
OR SOMETHING
NOT REALLY
I'D NEVER HOWL INTO THE NIGHT
MY THROAT WOULD HURt
________-
llolslolol
my brain is like
something
not sandpaper
not pickled onion crisps
like a big opressive void
with invisible barriers
and stuff
yeah
stuff
it's all about the stuff, maaaaaaaaaan!
ignore that
ignore the stuff talk
okay
I was onto something when I said it's a big void
and it hurts
meeeeeeee!
_____________-
BOUNEC OBUEg
h
da
h
adh
a
h
a
h
agh
my body feels wrong
like when you do things
and they feel good?
they wouldn't feel good to me
trust me
like on a rollercoaster
you're scared but it's also exerilarating (I can't spell and I can't spell check when doing thing of the day)
but I woudln't get that
I'd just be scared
uncomfortable
without the good part
trust me
TRUST ME
TURSTU MTEMST ST
t
s
t
mstg
SGAgh
+_+
+++++++++++++=
___________--
GERRY JONTY OR KARA TO WIN
bored
bored
bored
bored
no point doing thing syou don't enjoy
I don't enjoy anything
g
gGOOD GAWD ALLMIGHT
lol
people have "faith" in "god"
that's prettty stupid
not as stupid as being me
but even if I did have "faith" in "god"
I'D STILL BE ME
I'd still have me bio-chemcial make-up
I'd still fear all human contact
things would still feel wrong
all the time
I need hellppg
_________--
I need someone to tell me what to do...then do it for me.
____________
Sandpaper, that's what it felt like.
He was sitting alone. The tv was on but he wasn't watching it. It wasn't even background noise, he'd completely tuned it out. He'd completely tuned everything out. He was alone in every way it's possible to be alone. Time was passing and it felt like sandpaper on his skin.
Well, not exactly like sandpaper. He feels the need to clarify that it didn't feel like exactly like sandpaper. None of his autistic "feelings" feel exactly like anything else. But for the purpose of this short interlude he will say it felt like sandpaper.
It felt like sandpaper.
He sat. He thought of moving but there would be no point. No point in even thinking of moving. He thought of changing the tv channel but there would be no point. No point in thinking of changing the tv channel. No point in thinking.
He stopped thinking.
It wasn't a conscious chocie to stop thinking. When you make a conscious choice to stop thinking, you're thinking about stopping thinking. He just stopped thinking.
For a moment he ceased to exist and the sandpaper was gone.
He popped back into existence and the sandpaper was back. Mild frustration made a half-assed effort to make itself felt, but gave up quickly.
It occured to him that there must have been a time when he was alive and but no conscious of himself, not sentient, and, at some point, he must have just popped into existence, like he just had there.
So, really, dying was nothing to fear, he concluded. He wasn't sure how he actually reached that conclusion but it felt right.
He continued to sit, waiting to die.
He didn't die.
But eventually he couldn't even feel the sandpaper anymore. That was good. That was progress.
He went to bed, woke up, and did it all again.
It felt different from sandpaper, when the feeling returned, but it was the same feeling. He tried to come up with some words to describe it, but decided to lie face down on his couch instead. He though he'd made the right choice. He probably had.
___________
ALL I AM
IS THIS
.
SEE
LOL IT's JUST A DOT
SMALL YOU KNOW
GET IT
I'M SMALL
RAGADJKLASgasgjklsklgjklagjklajklg
LOL SEE THAT
THAT'S ME HOWLING INTO THE NIGHT
OR SOMETHING
NOT REALLY
I'D NEVER HOWL INTO THE NIGHT
MY THROAT WOULD HURt
________-
llolslolol
my brain is like
something
not sandpaper
not pickled onion crisps
like a big opressive void
with invisible barriers
and stuff
yeah
stuff
it's all about the stuff, maaaaaaaaaan!
ignore that
ignore the stuff talk
okay
I was onto something when I said it's a big void
and it hurts
meeeeeeee!
_____________-
BOUNEC OBUEg
h
da
h
adh
a
h
a
h
agh
my body feels wrong
like when you do things
and they feel good?
they wouldn't feel good to me
trust me
like on a rollercoaster
you're scared but it's also exerilarating (I can't spell and I can't spell check when doing thing of the day)
but I woudln't get that
I'd just be scared
uncomfortable
without the good part
trust me
TRUST ME
TURSTU MTEMST ST
t
s
t
mstg
SGAgh
+_+
+++++++++++++=
___________--
GERRY JONTY OR KARA TO WIN
