Autistic Adult Content

Adults who are Autistic each are unique if I may keep this simplistic. Simplicity for the sake of brevity. I met a man with Autism who was nothing like me. We had so much in common. It was a joy to witness such individuality. So majestic was the voice like a song in the office of minds. Of course they heard a gut wrenching scream as he melted down like an over worm circuit board. One too many changes for him is my guess. He filled the room with his cry for assistance. Fortunately, I stayed to myself in this chaotic display of academia. My thoughts at best rested upon the fact that this was par for this course. Then I retreated into the seat that was allotted for such abnormalities. He is an Autistic adult. He is so unique. He is nothing like me. We have so much in common.
She is Autistic as well. Different day but same place. She was prime for the meltdown of a life time. She waltz in the office with such a willingness almost to offer the receptionist a kiss. Our eyes shook hands for a brief distant hello. She dashed to her chair as if her name was on it. Immediately she began to stare at the cracks in the floor as of to determine their original form. The circuits were getting worn. Then after a few squeals and a squeak she invited her chair to enter into the conversation she was having with herself. I felt her look my way. I looked back as we had our second conversation in absolute silence. I immediately investigated the cracks on the floor in front of her to ensure they were still ok. They were. Her and I are so radically different. We had so much in common. In a few moments her private life wanted to go public. She was whisked away by the voice down the hall calling her by name. That’s when her clothes no longer felt comfortable. She took them off. I didn’t notice due to the constant screaming. Those who have degrees after their name felt the temperature rising. They noticed me. Told me that many changes were going to happen immediately. Lights and sounds. Men in uniform are coming. I was invited to leave. I obliged.
Home now, as the TV was left on. There is a guy there who is definitely nothing like me. He is definitely an Aspie if you ask me. His thoughts are so sound and even profound. He left me a clue in the shirt. A few too many wrinkles. I see the signs like the stop sign at the end of my street that I often run. Not on purpose of course. It just disappears into my thinking. Most would stop for it anyways. Most would iron out the wrinkles to go on national television. He was not very keen on answering questions outside his expertise. I knew it. That man is so unique. He is definitely nothing like me. We have so much in common.