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i’ve come to a conclusion about my mental healthbut i’ll get back to that prologue:when i was youngi remember people talking about autismas if it were pitiable, contagious, debilitating spoken of in hushed tonesdid you hear about margaret?her son is…the word is barely audible by the time i saw rain manthe concept had become cemented…
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my skull is hollowas if i could crawl inside of itfold my whole body into itself i’m looking aroundfor a hint of emotionsof colorof love or rageof red or green or yellowbut there is nothing just an expansive voidsand on the oceansideeroding away underthe wave’s caress i want to be presenthere in the nowbut there…
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i had finally found my wayto the center of the labyrinth there was no minotaur hereno pile of bonesno evidence of the violencethat fill the ancient tales the only sound was quietthe steady rhythm of my own breathing it was a circular roomwith one entranceso with one exit nondescript white wallsplain and unassuming in the…
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when i was a childmy father gave me a broken telephone i took it apartunscrewed it as far as i couldleft it as a pile of piecesa metallic jigsaw puzzle i had no goal, no purpose in this dissectioni wasn’t trying to figure out how it workedi just wanted to see its innardslaid out before…
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(This is just a dream journal entry, kept here because it goes with the previous item and I don’t want to lose it. No deep reflections here, but if you want to read it anyway, go for it.) So there was of course more to the dream than I put in that write-up. It was…
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last night i had a dream where i was trying to take a showerthat wasn’t the whole dream of coursei was in chicago with my (dream) girlfriend for some sort of conferencethere were students there tooand other teachers it was the last morning of the conferencesunday morningtime to get ready to go homemy girlfriend had…
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I’ve made it past the two-thirds mark for April. Some days I really struggle with new words, and I’m feeling like there’s a shadow of glumness that hovers over most of them. My inner child is now and has long been so very emo, but I also feel like I’m turning a corner. Therapy? sings:…
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so anywaythe other day i was thinking about how i was trained to always apologizeto always feel sorry for who i am and what i’ve doneand how that created a lifetime of shamelikeeverything i do is wrongbutit’s just not truei meanhonestlyi know that i’m not perfect and that plenty of what i do is messed…