I began writing in this blog whilst sitting upon a red feux-velvet chair at a Starbucks which does not even exist anymore. Or, rather, it had moved. I remember, vividly, engaging what I had no inclination to believe would evolve into over 100 individuals interested enough to partake in the engrossment of my words to this day the first words to become many thousands upon thousands. And now, here we are: friends, family or followers, it matters not. The threshold of my wherewithal stands to naught more than a simple apology to all my quite well received readers of no small affect of gratitude from mine own heart to thine, in that, hitherto, my conscious has been plagued by the incumbent moroseness of stress and lack of sense in such financial struggles which, I can so wager, affects us all. To such an end I say that I am sorry for certain unaforementioned entries of logging into this WordPress account that fell to the pressure of solicitation that stand totally against the inflections originally wished upon my beloved readers from our genesis.
Moving on, I shall hence forth make all efforts to stand true for which our first and primary encounters what so allowed a mass of beloved readers as yourself to comprehend messages of the life of an Autistic savant that follows suit. Such as it is, I find the world to be ruthlessly unfair. I find that much to which our previous entries have lacked in efforts of speeches circumnavigating the morals and virtues I hold myself so dear were so induced by my experiences of this world and its, in respect not hate, ignorance. I have been rejected and turned down from so very many occupations that my own beloved spouse jeers and bites her own thumb towards the naïve nature of companies who do not recognize the benefits surpassed by my actually proven accomplishments in exchange for one such individual who is far below their standard and has, by mine own observations, been released of an unwanted termination due to incompetence. Please, do not misinterpret. Ere my rantings and ravings so previously recorded, I was truly bitter and terminal in my disdain. Currently, however, I have prayed. Oh, my lord Jesus in Heaven, from whom all blessings flow, I have prayed, God. I have meditated. I have been scourged and I emerge strengthened by my own follow, yet irreparably broken by mine own stupidity. I was arrogant and foolhardy. Moreover, I have neglected those in whom my heart has gone out many a time in the refuge of written comfort; that I dare take even the slightest form of competitive advantage over such beautiful people as you all; all of you who have so shown this autistic sufferer that a myriad understand the trials faced of having such supernatural gifts and talents as society, albeit unintentionally, spits in my face. Once again, I am sorry. Please, observe:
I am a lover of God, first and foremost. He speaks to me. Moreover, he speaks to me quite literally, in which the just utilized adverb which indicates a methodology defined by the act in opposition to the metaphorical; so as to identify with a part on subject matter usually inclined by instinctive adjustment to the former and not the latter. I say this to better demonstrate that I am not colloquially emphasizing the nature behind my conversations with my heavenly father. I mean in the absolute trueness of the word “literally” and not in its diluted slang which is so common amongst our society today; even amongst adults who, at one time, never even spoke of such slang in all their lives yet not partake quite regularly beyond their consciousness. Digressions aside, previous statements lead to notions of chastisement from God, the one which I have been so speaking. Thusly, he has most assuredly beaten me. And, as I said, I am utterly broken. Our conversations, which are usually upon the one-sided concept of my blood-letting screams from the recesses of the pit of Hell dwelt inside my intestines, in reception of his word: God’s sole word. And when I say “word” singularly, I mean “word” in its singular form and not plural, as most recognized by theologians in reference to the plethora of words given in the Bible. Ironically, when God speaks this one single word, it is the epitomized testament to what he has been and still continues to push into me to endeavor upon on his life which he so perpetuates in me. I’ve tried to kill myself at least four times. I almost choked on a jawbreaker when I was a young boy. Before I was conceived in my mother’s womb she had a tubal-ligation. Also, after I was born I almost died of spinal meningitis. I continue to contend with God and argue as to why I am still alive and why I cannot simply go home. And despite my pleas, despite my begging and even my own inductions to hasten my final destination, he perpetuates me. When I ask him in terms of either screaming a curse in the name of Christ, or the softest of whispers underneath my blanket upon my bed in sobbing lament, he returns to me with a single and soft voice of compassion yet emphatical paternal earnestness. He says to me, “word”.
In between hitting myself and self-mutilation (does anyone here have a child or person or is that very person on the spectrum who hits, hurts or all otherwise physically harms themselves and does so regularly? I need to know that I’m not the only one who becomes so overwhelmed that physical pain is the only solitary outlet. Thanks), it has taken all my life to understand what he meant. In all actuality, I am still struggling to discern his meaning. But, I have an idea. As you all know, I adore the utilization of words; written words. I adore and obsessive compulsively over grammar. I do not recoil from some internal “thang” when someone says “more-better” or “ir-regardless”. I do not merely cringe when they pronounce it “supossebly”, I loathe all humanity inwardly and maintain an absolute slander for the calumny that infects the populace of misspelled and mispronounced anathema. I am abhorrent to mention the new writing application known as (God, help us) Grammarly.
I am a writer. I wrote and published two epic novels. Then through the process of all that, I invented three languages in which I do not use English characters; or any other man-made character ever written in the entire history of the world. I created Angellian: the language of angels. God says to me, so many, many times, that same miasma of a messianic word: “word”, “word,” “word!” I feel like I can’t take it and I want to rip God out of my head. Until, one day, I downloaded an app which allows me to draw calligraphy. My friends, my family, I start anew with all of you. I love you all and I hope this realm of Autism may resume and recover to how I began and what I wish to achieve with all of you and the entire ecumenical world, therein:
With all the sincerity and beseeching of forgiveness in my heart,
-The Giver of Words.