As I may have mentioned before, I'm about halfway through my next degree, this time in Mental Health... And exactly as the post's writer, I'm a healthcare practitioner, who's come to learn about Asperger's after one my lecturers kindly (and I mean it...) asked: "Aren't you just a tiny bit autistic?" And looking back, I … Continue reading Why the “rest” of the world is largely unaware of people on the spectrum
Author: Theoretical Philosophy & Existential Poetry - (Rev.) Romulus C. Kulik-Draco
Autistic/Asperger's Savant, Theologian and Theoretical Philosopher, Poet/Writer Author, analysing the causes, effects, and foreseeable cataclysmic consummation of humankind's ignorance of a mathematically unavoidable, absetee however, Deity, best described in the Jewish Torah.
Writer and Author of four published volumes of Existential Poetry.
Proposing a new, "Medi-Social Model of Neurodivergence and Disability"© for Individuals on "The Neurodevelopmental Spectrum"©.
What does a meltdown Feel like?
Recently, my world has been turned “upside down”, which is actually the “normal” for me, since I became aware of living on the Asperger’s Autistic Spectrum. And I so much wanted to write everything I feel, but poetry isn’t the best method of conveying organised thoughts. To my absolute surprise, someone living in the same universe but on a beautifully different planet, has written all my thoughts, neatly organised. And since permission was granted to re-blog, I’m gladly sharing her thoughts, many common to us, Aspies, beginning with this one, to be followed by many more, before my new blog, “Aspergreatness” will emerge…
In a relatively recent post, I explained the differences between a meltdown and a temper tantrum. Even for those who haven’t personally experienced or witnessed a meltdown, it’s pretty easy to form a mental picture of what one looks like, using only minimal imagination; on the outside and at the surface, a meltdown resembles a garden variety tantrum (except that it’s not).
But few, if any, allistic people (those who aren’t on the autism spectrum) know what a meltdown actually feels like. Truthfully, it can be tough to understand. As with many other aspects of Asperger’s and the autism spectrum in general, it can be difficult to explain, and the details may vary among individual people, as do the thoughts, emotions, and “why”s behind it all.
I’m fortunate in that meltdowns don’t happen to me very often. But I’ve had my share. People have gotten hurt in the process. …
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Reasons to nowhere…
Abiding deep within limits of reason, stacking the lines between movement and still, abandoned or lost at the end of each season, painting of clouds for some windless mill… Sandpapered shores without door or a window, oceanless depths all awaiting to fly, scratching the bark under each weeping willow, mourning a timelessness unwilling to … Continue reading Reasons to nowhere…
Shelves to nowhere…
I need one more day to remember tomorrow, a page underneath old volumes of pain, stolen perhaps from where’s nothing to borrow, oblivious libraries of not much to gain… Pacing intrigued through shelves to nowhere, wars of empires coveting gold, buried beneath my belonging to somewhere, echoes and voices of stories untold… … Continue reading Shelves to nowhere…
A metric analysis of impossible rhymes…
Life’s like a lobotomised impression inside a golden skull; too cheap to bury, too expensive to keep. A Stradivari of motionless complexities, all sailing south, monstrosities, as forbidden banners of condemned rebellions… Tied to the mast of someone else’s travels, on sleepless waves of no more dreams to catch, blinded lighthouses towering over shipwrecked carcasses … Continue reading A metric analysis of impossible rhymes…
Amazing traces…
Please watch before reading, and listen while you read: The Idan Raichel Project - Hakol Over (Everything passes) I need you to dream the colour of spaces, the time between midnight, tomorrow and trees, I beg you to fathom amazing traces, layers of clouds returning to seas… I dare you to picture small shells of … Continue reading Amazing traces…
Abandoned eagles…
A flow of matter, crossing bridges paved with idle rivers, of constant wars between no sides, for kings and kingdoms rather old… How bitter all the odds, when knights die young and simply for no reason, alone with horses mourning by their sides, while all the humble flowers of each season, spell intricate mementoes on … Continue reading Abandoned eagles…
If the world was built for me
If the world was built for me. There would be nothing wrong with me. I would be happy and safe and certain and successful.
If the world was built for me, when I met people there would be no expectation of physical contact or small talk. We may ignore each other, with a socially acceptable nod, or throw ourselves into a deep and meaningful conversation.
If the world was built for me, then we would all sit next to each other, not opposite. Things would be based on literal words, not guessed expressions and gestures.
If the world was built for me, there would be a compulsory day off for everyone after any social event. Just so we could all take the time to recharge and process things.
If the world was built for me, work would be about working and nothing else. There wouldn’t be the necessary interaction that…
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To my autistic diary…
When its motion stopped, I realised that my circle of life became an insignificant spot, desperate, frightened, alone, like a tired fire juggler abandoned by an audience too dull to notice the beauty of the single detail constructing their illusion… “How odd” he said, “In vitro, every now and then becomes a schism embedded deep … Continue reading To my autistic diary…
Agnosis…
It’s not important to remember days, and wonder why has our time become so slow; it doesn’t matter anymore if there’s no thunder, after the rain, before the bow… It matters not why in our backyard’s desert, there are no camels and the Bedouins have left; what truly matters is a sense of water, illusion … Continue reading Agnosis…
The Theoretical Philosophy of Existential Poetry 
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