Telepathic Communion

Just need to get some words out.

Is life not the loneliest endeavor? Somehow, when I write this, I know you’re there. It’s not so bad. There is a reader somewhere in spacetime who keeps me company and the desolation isn’t so bad.

Writing is like that. You can tell when your words are read sometimes as early as before you write them. Maybe that is because I have autism.

Do you think that I should abstain from all endeavors of love because I am autistic?

I don’t think so. I think I can still find love.

It seems like a Nazi thing to tell people like me that just because I got diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder that I should be celibate and go die in a hole somewhere.

Maybe that’s just because of my personality.

I write about circumcision like people want to read about that crap after all.

I don’t know why no one talks about that stuff. Parents should talk about it and help their children find identity in their kind. Mine never did. I think my dad wanted me to cross over to his side on my own, which is ridiculous. I would never do anything like that. One, there is no reason to, being a Christian. Two, it goes against the moral fiber of my being. Three, I think it would give society the wrong impression about what people should do about that.

I don’t have a good relationship with my father though, so who cares? That guy fears me like I’m going to kick his ass whenever he turns his back or something, which would be pretty funny to do, but I’m not a violent person, so I’m just going to leave him alone.

Sometimes I wish that I had friends, other than you of course, beloved reader, who finds me somewhere in spacetime and is here now, as I guess I am there now reminding you that it’s not so lonely, even if it feels that way because love is nowhere to be found in this desolate wasteland we got stuck with.

Well, thanks for showing up. I wish there was something I could offer other than this telepathic compassion, but this is literally all I’ve got to give. Literally, get it. Books are my best friends. They are just… cold and dead, you know? Alive and well, sure, but…. cold and dead.

I wish I had a friend.

Is there even a telepathic connection? Maybe I’m just making believe with schizophrenia and driving myself more insane. Probably that’s the case. It beats being lonely and without a friend.

I had a chance to have friends once, but I screwed it up. I was wild and went crazy. I guess I was autistic too and didn’t know it.

If I would have known, things might have been different.

Now I’m screwed though, stuck with you, who could be hundreds of years in the future, but I doubt it. Why would anyone come back and read this nonsense? Probably it’s just the federal watchers who are watching me. They love me in a twisted sort of way. It’s like a sado-masochistic relationship that I get no say in, except for these gentle protests.

I don’t want to go… I don’t want to break the connection. You’re there, aren’t you? Someone real. Someone other than them.

Well, see ya.

I just remembered what St, Ignatius says about these moments of desolation. Treasure them. Drink it even deeper. Consolation will come from God, and only God. Christ does that you know, consoles us and desolates us like this. I feel better now. knowing it’s from Christ. It hurts worse, but… in a good way.