Almost the scent of autumn in the air. A gentle breeze ran fingers through. Each tress of hair that ghost-like rose to kiss. The promise of the bliss of cooler days to come. Hidden neros fiddle while they. Raking in the trillions while we. Wars to kill the poor among us. Young and old we bleed. Not for glory, same old story.

It is a parable, really, of breaking away from the dominant paradigm in order to become oneself. Important articles and great information.

I was just grasping at straws trying to work out which version of myself would be the one that people liked. Would this photo look cool or contrived? Would this post sound witty or arrogant? Would this comment offend or amuse? Which of my Facebook friends might be online right then and who would they expect to see? Is that just me? That th.

At odd wars with every grain of sand,. From in between the colourless longitude. Underneath my tired eyelid,. Of my tormenting visions,. And all my sisters to kitchen tongs. And other rusty, surgical contraptions,. Each year, trees remember;.

Victorian Inspired Originals for Extraordinary People. Elle and the Auto Gnome. Has Geoffery been spotted yet? August 9, 2015.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 2,152 other followers. Reflagging this from a friends blog. We wrote this collaborative piece. I think we did a pretty good job. Hope you enjoy the read. Originally posted on Never Less Than Everything. How well do you know your own neuro-type? Recently I was having a nice discussion with my friend and fellow blogger Rich, of Neuortypical? 1,194 more words.

Glass Artists With A Difference. Encourage, comfort, edify. The Person Next to You. The Truth About The Judge Rotenberg Center. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Steeple song by Don Francisco.

Respectful Parenting in an Ableistic World. Yesterday, I saw a twitter thread.

The day to day life of an autistic woman. The trials of being nice. One thought I have been trying desperately to quash of late is the gnawing doubt as to whether I actually fit in even amongst my fellow autistics. In case you missed it, thi.