Weirdos

They call me a weirdo

but I’m not the only one.

So called Autistic me cares

more than I think the Normal people do.

I care so much it hurts

that they don’t care in return.

 

People confuse me

they say “how do you do?”

They don’t want my answer

but bombard me with theirs

forcing it upon me

like an audible rape

 

I won’t be rude

I’ll listen to what they have to say

Then I’ll run upstairs and hide

lie on my couch and cry

stuffing myself with food

so there’s no more room for hurt

Maybe I don’t care after all

Status of my neighbor’s gall bladder

I’m sure you don’t care how my neighbor’s gall bladder is faring.  You don’t know her after all.  I don’t know her very well myself.  Yet, after seeing her in the lobby and asking her the standard “How are you doing?” greeting, I was treated to a briefing on her last doctor’s appointment, and the fact that said gall bladder needed removing.  Arrggghhhh!!!  I’ve got to start charging by the hour, no, by the minute.  I’d make a fortune just by walking downstairs to check the mail!