Complete Autism

I could not explain to anyone else but could to him.
I could put him on my lap.
He would not be listening, seemingly.
That did not matter.
I would talk, do the talking, as he would not or could not anyway. Except in his own language that I and others could not follow.
You see, darling, I would tell him, there are these pieces of paper that matter a lot to people on earth.
Yes, I know you and I are not from this planet. But they are. And they value these pieces of paper highly and assign different values to them. I never understood any of it.
I have to make lots of them to give you and your chichis and mom a good life.
For that I have to stay away from you.
Cos in the place I go to leaving you behind though that makes you and me lose out they give me more pieces of paper for same amount of work I would do here or less and those pieces of paper that I cannot read are ones that can be multiplied into even more pieces of paper here where you are, which in turn supposedly gives you all a better life though i have no idea if it is better or worse.
Do you get me?
He would not reply, of course, Or even bother to look at me, but he would sometimes look at me out of the corner of his eyes and smile or laugh and that was God smiling or laughing, if God exists.
Both of us got nothing except that it was nice to sit there with him on my lap.
Whoever had laughed at me and him had been right.
Just like him I had never belonged
Just like him, almost, those pieces of paper meant nothing to me
We would never amount to anything much, him and me, or if we did it would be by some fluke that people called the grace of God.
But we both valued those times with him sitting on my lap.
Pity that chasing those pieces of paper gave me so little of it and him.
Pity that I was not as far gone as he was to tear them up or make paper boats out of them given the chance.

PS: All the posts in "Autism" and "Rejected Stuff" category are very close to my heart as they are conclusions of the various discussions I had with people of different ages on Facebook.

PPS: This stuff is written by a gentleman and a very good friend of mine.I just did the proof reading and SEO work. 

PPS:It is published here on my blog to spread love,happiness and awareness about Autism.The unique thing about written content is that it is applicable to people of all generations.

The Father And The Son

The father who had no money
saw a bike leaned against a wall
took his small son, put him on it
and went with him
several times around the block
Later, when he came back
to replace it
the bike owner slapped him hard
but the son was not there to see
so the dad's heart still sang inwardly
though his cheek was stinging red.

Back to music

                                                                                                                                                                         

Music drives you crazy,music make you insane,music gives you life and music never let you die alone.Finally I found those lost headphones back.Days are passing by and I'm wondering why I'm still around.No clue what to do next.One step ahead and I will fall and can't even step back.I finally continue to be alone wondering what my true purpose is,just getting away from all the stress and trying to protect my soul(from what?I am not sure about).A completely numb stage where you have no idea what to do next,you can't please everyone,you can't settle your differences.

A journey on a completely scary streets and no one to tell the directions.The various colours  life has shown in past few months will be  a part of my memories(Black-Blue,Black-White,Angel-Devil,green and what not....:D)
The multiple personalities I occupied to deal with the external world were the real source of anxiety and what I have carried forward with me even through all the turmoil I have been through will always be a bitter-sweet symphony of memories.Yes,I am recluse and deviant and unsocial and I prefer peace and quiet.I am kind of averse to going out with friends to parties and all(No time to get drunk,I am already at home :D)
Most people with that so called "social" tag live an extra ordinary life with party,light,booze and all other stuff.If this living life like a rich bastard is what you call life is all about,I would rather prefer to say I don't have a life.I lead a normal life,that innocent monster in me loves to live alone with those manipulated scary-senti *dreams*.
 
It's 2 am.Yes,it's raining cats and dogs and I'm here sitting near the window,in depth of solitude,all alone,doing nothing but tapping fingers on my laptop without any reason,the irritating darkness,the anguish,pain and image of those slimy backstabbers,dumb fuckers,asinine morons and lousy souls and many random thoughts in my fickle
mind never allow me to sleep.Emotions,what are they? Sometimes I wish I could kill some people.If it sounds abnormal,yes I am abnormal.Why can't we live the way we want to? Where is freedom? Why is it necessary to read and learn the shit we don't want to?Fuck all rules,regulations and all other society's terms and conditions.Fuck politics.Fuck Indian Education system.Yes,I am frustrated.And this venom spitted in form of words is due to this frustration.Dreams screwed,life screwed and still pretending as if nothing happens.Why I am living?
  
 The faint light coming from top of the window still enlighten a ray hope and keep asking the same question again "will a new life be achieved under the sun"?or that sun won't rise again? The completely clueless mind with no answers.What if I never wake up,it turns out to be a nightmare,a worst nightmare.What if this night never ends..what if??

P.S. Yes,results are out and this crap is an outcome of it.Yes,I am officially dead.

Sayonara.