My Poems, Satires & Other Lyrical Nonsense - 1. A Room Is All I need

This is my take on an individual with Aspergers Syndrome. Please, comments are welcome.

A room is all I need. A bland room with white walls, black marble floors and a canvas on each of the walls to ponder on. In the center of the room, however, I want a black seat, and on this seat, I will sit, I will wait and contemplate. No longer do the white walls hold any sentimental value because the hurricane flustering around my chair is now my white wall.

No polished exterior, vibrant watercolors or ostentatious show of character can come close to the longing of wanting to understand why I am this way. I am a one-man island; I have forever been, and I will always be. A world of beautiful vision empowers my mind; strong single factors breach the surface. They make me emotional, not because they are beautiful; but because I believe I see them differently. There is no dilute in my reality; just sheer sorrow and understanding on the word radiant.

At school; I'm different. I don't like people, people are… noisy. Silence is extraordinary; I love the quiet: not because it is appeasing on the ears but because I can't endure people for very long. I don't like people who are brainless; they are squandering their intelligence for pity and favor. I'd much rather read a book, in that nook of the room away from people entirely. I'm told It's in my best interests by the teacher that I should socialize, I'd preferably do my math homework instead. When people talk about the weather, they insult their ability. When I grow tired of people, I try to separate from people, but the humans insist that I communicate with others my age. That's when I lash out; a rage of anguish part guilt fuels my manners and I cry, kick, dismantle the vicinity to show my frustration: Essentially my so-called tantrum. When others rush home after to school to time constraints, I sit on my black chair in my white room and contemplate.

At home; I don't like hugs. I don't want my food touching and I sure as hell do not appreciate my parents disrupting my golden silence. That silence is there for me to think about all the colorful worlds and people I've created in my head. You may have to say what you previously said because I'll have forgotten it within a matter of seconds. I'm also sorry If I make you feel uncomfortable or unwelcome If I don't make eye contact with you.

When I'm alone; my head hurts. I think too much; I can't shut all my thoughts off, it trickles like a leaky faucet. There is so much information to be learned; so much bright and shiny things to see, that occasionally I become exhausted.

If I'm out and about; I can be noisy, though people tut… groan, roll their eyes, grouchily move about, but they don't know I see the world differently. It's not that I want to look at the world differently, it's just I do. No beating around Autism; just like there is no beating around death… so why can't people understand and leave me alone?