Autism
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Honestly, at this point, I’m convinced the universe is writing my life like a cosmic sitcom. Picture this: I finally get diagnosed autistic at forty-five and immediately discover I’m now both the ancient mythical sage and a small, overstimulated goblin-child who needs grape juice, quiet, and maybe a nap. The duality is outrageous. One minute…
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Truthful, with my pen as guide! A full-hearted, soul-sent storm chaser, crashing through this world with poetry in my veins and vulnerability as my sword. I don’t come gently. I come with the trinity of myth. I come with longing. I come with the kind of truth that makes people look away, “who knows, they…