imagine that it could have been labeled autistic, and imagine that that autism is barely noticeable except for a slight speech defect and facial expressions that although apparently easy to interpret to an observer, these expressions do not correspond to the emotion, feeling or that which would want to be communicated. often it can not communicate that that it wishes to communicate. imagine that the patterns do not spell out what others would have it spell out. imagine that it is all along the lines of evolution, and imagine that normal is being redefined.
was also born with a fascination for stories. at an early age would read a story, and then could recreate it in minute detail amazing teachers with the precision of recall and the wonder of recreation. the words were not memorized, the story was remembered and recreated live. then, many years later, there are the shredded newspapers covering the floor and the other's inability to gain one single word of response. no response. just shredded newspapers, one page at a time, one strip at a time, one centimeter wide each strip, all shreds... the worth of news spread on the floor lay!
imagine it all down to the stardom of geekiness and forget the conventions and the norms, just forget it all! fractal it was! fracted and insulated within the story, once more it found all the love that it needed.
broken humans, all!
lovely.
imagine reinventing it all.
