I read this piece of news a few hours ago. It filled me with deep sadness. A professor at the Imperial College, London, died by suicide. I am now thinking about paradigms, meaning, endeavour, and the stark reality of the miry depths. Navigating the complex and perilous maze of neurotypical systems, structures and criteria for success is a perilous journey. Especially for people like us. For me, Endeavour, and the process thereof, is the ultimate pleasure and passionate focus. My functionality seems at terrible odds with the organisation of the world around me.
In a state of uncertain flux, Lucy is my bulwark of composed lucidity, in her concrete emanating non-verbal sensory eloquence, elegant non-human corporeality, resides the summation of Beingness.