Wrongly and Cruelly Done

Page Thirteen

by: mishi

Posted on: 06-25-2008 @ 09:53 am

 

 

wed 25 june 2008 Greenfield                                                                      So… I’m going to continue writing about the unauthorized Asperger’s testing that someone or other put me through last week, in public places, on sehnen.wordpress.com, if you want to see what certain buffoons do to earn their money. Matthew has told me these are tests, so I’m not imagining it, and please no one insinuate that I am. If he’s lying, or you come up with that as an excuse for not believing me, so be it. But it’s out of his mouth that these are tests. Here’s the other “Asperger’s” poem I forgot the other day. Written long before I ever heard the word, and yet to me it is all about having asperger’s.

From You to Me                       

                 Sparks from your eyes fly
                 at my insolence.
                 You fancy I don’t see them.
                 I am insolent,
                 believing my beliefs with easy ardor,
                 fomenting things in a virile voice.
                 I am arrogant,
l                living in this tepid time,
                 on fire.
                 And so you send your sparks.
                 Watching them fly, red-hot,
                 to my face,
                 I comprehend I can’t be loved,
                 but never understand.

here to the Asperger’s page, or here to Poetry.

Update 23 Sept 2009: I still don’t know who ordered those tests that were done on me in public places without my consent. I only know that when they were over, Matthew told me I had Aspergers. That’s all I know.

 

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Poemizing

Page Twelve

Posted on: 06-23-2008 @ 06:42 pm…    

 

 

mon 23 june 2008      Greenfield 

Aspinator: thank you for your response regarding aspies and bullying. I agree with everything you said.If anyone’s interested in reading about the Asperger’s tests that the DMH (at least, I assume it’s them) has been conducting on me in public places and without my consent, see sehnen.wordpress.com. I started writing about them tonight.

I have two old poems I found, from the year 2000, that I consider to be about living with Asperger’s, even though I’d never heard of Asperger’s when I wrote them. One of them I forgot to bring with me. Here’s the other:

                                                                                                                                                 

Amethyst & Rose

                                                                                                                

                                            In some good faith
                          I let fall the crystals
                             sprouted on the core-stone of
                                my ever-scrying self,
                                 waiting for the eyes
                                 in whose light
                                 they will be jewels.

as usual, tick-tock, tick-tock. loose ends to tie, etc.

 Asperger’s page of my website is here

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is cuimhin liom na laethe

Page Eight……      by: mishiPosted on: 05-21-2008 @ 09:44 am

 

 

May 21, 2008     Greenfield      

 There should be another poem.

Number 4                                      

                              My mutant soul
                              wears thorns that only you
                              enfolded.
                              My impassioned soul
                              sprouts fires that warmed
                              only you.
                              They’ve taken from me all balance
                              (this isn’t cruel?),
                              all blanketing
                              (this isn’t wrong?),
                              all meaning in the marking
                              of the hours;
                              left me shivering naked
                              in a timeless place.
                              Left me staring
                              raging
                              into empty space.    
        

here to the poetry page of my website.

So much of my life I strained to fit in with them, the neurotypicals, strained to fit in at least enough to satisfy that primate need for the companionship of our own kind. And I got meanness, viciousness, abandonment, ridicule, and so on. It’s really only since I started learning about Asperger’s three years ago that I gave up trying to fit at all, gave myself permission to be neurologically different. But they wouldn’t give me permission. Had to keep up with the aggression until I had nothing left.

Update 27 July 2009: What can I say more than a year later? I want to be away from them, most of the humans. I don’t want to look, don’t want to hear, don’t want to speak. I want only the eyes and ears and bodies of the animals I love, who were stolen and hidden here and there, and lies were told to me about where, and I was never allowed to visit any of the ones they let live a while. I don’t want the humans. I have one human, neurotypical friend now. Her voice I want, the sight of her I want. Otherwise the humans are more a burden than they ever were, because they have traumatized me and stolen from me more than I could bear.

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

 

may the ocean’s dogs devour them

 Page Seven

by: mishi   Posted on: 05-13-2008 @ 10:59 am

                                                           

 

Tues 13 May 2008    Greenfield                                                                                                                                          Well, thanks again Gonen, for your email. If there are any new ones, I’ll get to them sometime.ones, I’ll get to Right now I’m having a moratorium on email, and paper mail, and the telephone. Couple of weeks ago I met a whole new batch of mental health workers, who turned out to be just as full of flim-flam as the first bunch. The new batch is still emailing me, I think, and I’m not interested in anymore bullshit.I have a very happy fantasy sometimes that all the neurotypical bullshit artists drop dead of some disease, all at once, and only we neurosmarties are left. And the animals, of course, who are neurosmarties as well.The dilemma, always: as primates, we need SOME kind of bonding with other humans (though small doses work best for me), but the other humans are so bloody insufferable, how can we possibly form any meaningful bonds with them? Do you know?
 Update 22 July 2009, Turners: The same, the same. I want their world less than ever. I long for the world I had, with a home, with the animals, and I would put my one new human friend in it. Nothing else interests me. I haunt the streets of Turners Falls, where we had our life together, nothing more than a ghost.

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Lousy Mental Health Care

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website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~