Sometimes pressing buttons will cause people, places and things to chase after you & race to meet you. I am a girl whose nicknames are longer than my real name and who sees the world through olive-tinted glasses. Someone once said that while most people live in their country, my country lives inside me and I think for this reason I like to push these buttons often. This morning I swayed in the hallway while waiting for the elevator, I never have to wait too long, but time is relative and I'm never in a rush. I swayed to the melody of the humming that waved out of my vibrating lips. In that moment, i experienced the sounds as if it was something happening to me, rather than something i had created. That extra-sensory perception of the way i breathe and move triggers memories of my mom. her fingers would crawl along with her anxiety up the steering wheel on the stressful mornings when she'd tiredly drive us to school. It was a synapse where her wrists intersected with her memories and her fingers with her feelings and the result was a swivel of her small hands that showed me more about how she felt and experienced the world than any other action she shouted or word she made. i thought about her until the elevator came.
p.s. I would like to write a short story about a man who is the only documented case of an adult who outgrew his/her autism. I have a feeling he might miss the way he used to see the world and the singularity of his perception. He might spend the rest of his life trying to find a new way to see the world, through kaleidoscopes, telescopes and the glass his girlfriend makes.
I also thought it would be important to write a story about things that were accidentally dropped but ended up in places of purpose and the bird who couldn't find her purpose because she never quite let herself fall.
chicago deel.
