As An Autistic Person, The Implications Of "if They Really Cared I Wouldn't Have To Say It" Culture Are

As an autistic person, the implications of "if they really cared I wouldn't have to say it" culture are really scary. Because I want to know what hurts your feelings, what crosses your boundaries, where the line between teasing and being mean is at for you, what you need, and how to make you feel loved. And the implication that if my disability makes me unable to figure out these things through intuition alone, then I'm just not worth having around, is genuinely heartbreaking

Johnnytober 4°: Dear Diary

"Diary: day... Whatever it is.

It's been a long time I must say, since I ever written anything in here. It wasn't useful per say. Thoughts became so jumbled over the years that I couldn't remember what year it was. Did it matter? Not really. Nothing matters I guess. Suppose 2 hundred years will make you look like that.

Speaking of it... Happy 24 birthday! Was I born today? Probably not, but I celebrating. Probably gonna go down and drinking soda, eat a cake maybe? Find someone without love for life and a itching finger in a gun to kill. I suppose it's better to do it when I on the clock but... I have enough money to pay a billionaire to kiss my shoes. I don't remember where most of money is, one would think the propose of hiding your money is to find it later but, oh well! That's life, like Sinatra would say, heard him sing live when he was... Well, alive. Young. Suppose I was young too. Young with a death wish. Still not specific enough.

Not even my name is specific. Jonathan. There's thousands of Jonathans in the world, thousands of lambs. The animal I mean. I probably as smart as one. Oh who can lie like that, I wish I was. Then I wouldn't be writing in this book to rest my sorrows.

Why don't they just die out? The indomitable human spirit as the internet people would say? It must be old this meme, I barely can understand the web, barely can understand people. I just wish... I don't know, amnesia? Not thinking of that again, thank luck. Isn't gonna work anyway. Head too thick.

Uh, that's all. I be back when the day is over and another comes... Again. When will the sun blow up?

With all but love, Jonathan."

I said this shit world be random, didn't I?

“And how do you manage your anxiety?”

AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHA *maniacal grin* ✨I DON’T✨

... Can you send me some, my country kinda banned Twitter-

People on twitter are weird, I don’t like them

“Trash you’re on twitter”

I said what I said!

Also I’m just there for the porn.

Same. Shout out to "Lose Yourself but it's Mr.Blue Sky" for making me imagine crazy stuff.

god i love making animatics in my head i wish drawing was real

Literally me frfr

October Diary Entries: Franz Kafka

01 October 1911. The words are not really, or chiefly, sung, but behind them arabesque-like melodies are heard that spin out the words as fine as hairs.

02 October 1911. When I awaken, all the dreams are gathered about me, but I am careful not to reflect on them.

03 October 1911. Finally I say it, but retain the great fear that everything within me is ready for a poetic work and such a work would be a heavenly enlightenment and a real coming-alive for me, while here, in the office, because of so wretched an official document, I must rob a body capable of such happiness of a piece of its flesh.

04 October 1911. By the way, last night I purposely made myself dull, went for a walk, read Dickens, then felt a little better and had lost the strength for sorrow. I still regarded the sorrow as justified but it seemed to have withdrawn somewhat, I looked at it from a distance and therefore hoped for better sleep.

05 October 1911. Restlessness again for the first time in several days, even now that I am writing. Rage at my sister who comes into the room and sits down at the table with a book.

Excerpts from "The diaries of Franz Kafka 1910-1923"