When I drove home today I thought about it, What we talked to each other. I think, You didn't understand me. In any case, I had the impression in the middle of talking, that you don't understand me. And at the same time I had a kind of déja-vu, Because I must have thought, I've already experienced that.
If, Then I thought, When I drove home, I've ever had the feeling, to be understood? Is. Not just from you. You are a special case, Because exactly you were the one, who always tried, to understand me. And maybe that was the feeling, not to be understood, When I just felt misunderstood by you, most violent.
'I don't understand.’ I do not know, whether there is a sentence, that I have said more often, all in all, When I think of sentences, that one speaks like that, in his life, If you are on this (Life) look back. ‘I can't understand.’ I said, very early, In so many everyday situations, In normal interactions, I didn't understand simple things like the traffic rules. And now I know yes, that this non -understanding could have nothing to do with my will, Nor with a rebellion or (BPS), but with the neurodian vigor, for which you use the word autism. But nothing more is said about that either. Or how should I understand that? The thing is that, that you cannot imagine anything under the word brain or under the word psyche, that both of them are actually terms without fabric and location. And one is dependent on words of such abstractness, To learn something about a person?
The prohibition sign is a round circle, Red outside, blue inside, that is shared by a sloping strip. When I was a child, I tried, to impress me with the picture. I was told me, What it means. I have said; I understand. But next time I forgot it again.
I memorized the picture, That was not the problem, I saw the signet, In front of the inner eye, but as soon as I was confronted with it, in the situation, I didn't understand its purpose. I was explained to me again, I have said, I understand. So it went for a long time. But at some point I found, that I say better: I don't understand. And I only said this sentence. Even, When I understand, I said: “I can't understand.” And maybe I added, Another stage: “Do you understand? I can not understand. Do you understand?”,
You have to understand, that I can't understand, What I don't believe. And that I don't understand so many years, that I can't understand, What I don't believe. But now, much too late, I understand, that I can't understand. But it is inexplicable to me, Like me from a single abstract word (autism) My understanding gain my business for this consequences, a word, that only layers another abstractness over the other.
Aut_(Himself) ismos (location). Is there a place, who belongs less to the self, than that?
You may also be a little neurodive, I said. But rather only in private things. And, In contrast to me, you have always been there on site, where I can't be myself, there, where all of these assessments take their unbreakable sense/logic; You have gone through the systems– The school system, The professional system, The language system, The calculation system, The legal system— Because you understand. But you still say, that you want to give all of this, To be able to live freely and undisturbed in the day. And, But then do it, I say, for the hundredth time in years. If that's it, what you want. And you the constraints, The standards, The expectations, Squeeze and crush the monotony of the employment apparatus. But also there, you always the same, You could never get out of the system, Better still let all of this endure you, Until your body, The only tangible, is broken. I don't understand you. And I understand you. There is no alternative. Either you understand. Or you don't understand.
It took me so many years, to understand, Because of my developmental disorder— Another word— Again it says nothing!—- that I would have needed twice or three times the time— and then together with the me—- I have nothing, Nothing practically learned in the world, but just in myself. I have lived through my own socialization, Long, in me, quasi. And then have to start a second, Outside– I did the first through my mere imagination (or not)—- I didn't look at anything, I didn't imitate anything, I even have the language, that is a menu or at least a reproduction, New on every tongue, discovered, so, as if I had to learn them myself from new, Not, as if I had been taught—
My Krudes I thrown together and not understood, Why it's so difficult, To miss an identity, without looking at, imitate. So at some point I started, a little bit, look, later. Because suddenly everything seemed strange to me. So, as if I was different, not normal. Dies, although I was much more I was, than any other. But the others, They suddenly came to me in such a brain -tidy careless way normal, yourself before …. And I fake myself, do you understand? So we exchanged our roles in my view. Because I was captured by this differentiation craze, When I felt the normal wish, To approach and connect a little.
You learned so much better and faster. But in some things you are completely in terms of use; there, where it is not about terms. I ask you the questions of the ten -year -olds, Because I don't understand, what it looks like in another. So you understand the place and yourself in this? Or why do you hang on me so much, although I am no longer bin?