the basic shape of the capital latin letter a has remained fairly unchanged since phoenicianfirst developed over three millennia agothe major change is that it was tipped overit is believed to have originally represented a ox’s headapparently greek scholars busied themselves with tipping over cowsin the fields the basic shape of the lower case latin…

at the end of the path,at the end of the road,i am not autistic,i am not transgender,i am not disabled,i am just me,the me i have always been,hidden deep within the cocoon of me 04.28.23

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…

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…

some dayswords flow from my fingertipslike a mighty riverslide from my lipsin a deafening torrentof insighta logorrheic overflowspread out on the pagein the aira feast for the ear and the eye other days…not so much 04.25.23

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…

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…

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…

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…

left outlocked outdown below the waterlinefloating in stasisnot drowningbut not breathing embraced by the filigreethe layers of dishonestycocooned in the safetyof my self-victimizationnot cryingbut not laughing simply herebetween the sharp edges of realityand the freedom of the dream can i be so subtleand still claw my wayabove the surface?and do i really want to? (i’m…