not personal


peeling off gold paint


it’s not personal

just the way it is

the games you play

are fun to you

but cause my world

to shatter

wobbling on

sickly sweat

of your fine perfume

gone sour

it’s not personal

just the way it is

your words saccharin

exerting unreliable niceties

as far as dull eyes

can comfortably see

but that is poison

and not for me

it’s not personal

just the way it is

i do not wish

to dance to your

capricious rhythms

tenuous promises

words that just do not

match action

it’s not personal

just the way it is

your social sweets

for me

are toxic meats

I cannot make

myself eat

Some housekeeping is needed, and frameworks readjusted. The problem with social conformity and autists (and all other people, autistic or not, with straight forward mindsets) is that the affected individual needs to regularly analyse the mess and chaos, and bravely take up broom and mop (or super vacuum machines) for regular clean-outs. People are not the same as our precious collections of bus schedules, music CDs, books, facts, information and art. Most humans are unpredictable, they function along invisible systems of meandering, unreliable moralities and ethical constructs. My own difficulty has always been taking others at their word, and suppressing my own un-worded instinct when the latter begins to vocalise unease.

Many people have helped me along this amazing journey. I am deeply grateful to each one of them. But some of them have also betrayed my trust, for whatever their reasons. I do not wish to criticise from the vantage point of a higher morality, it is not mine to do so. My observations are from within my own lived reality of the experience. No matter how “not personal” the act may be, a betrayal is a betrayal, the emotional impetus behind it does not change its immutable fact-of-being. I try not to berate myself for being too trusting, the cosmos somehow has provided me more grace than I deserve, so there is plenty to go around. I have survived every single betrayal with a great deal more of everything good than I began with. But still, it does not change the nature of betrayal – it is what it is.

And I am nobody’s charity-toy. Your little sweetmeats tossed my way from vast coffers filled with yesterday’s charm are not things I need to sell my innate modalities for. I’m not awestruck by your things – I am blessed, I’ve been there, seen and done most of that, and probably more than you have to boast of – I am only quietly grateful for grace, wherever grace is imparted from.

Some people ask me, about friends and relatives I once held dear who have betrayed me, “Don’t you feel anything for them? Don’t you at least miss them? You seemed so close!”

The answer? No, I do not feel anything but relief and freed. I do not miss them at all. I walked away relieved, from a 27 year long relationship with a person who called herself my best-friend but abused me verbally and socially. I endured her – whether from my own stupidity or her oppressive power, or a twisted combination of both – and we did have some good times. But miss her? Hell no. Not a single iota. I extricated myself from another oppressive entanglement (this was much harder as I grew up in the role of slavery to this older person) after half a lifetime spent under her colonial “care” and subjugation. Do I miss that life of luxury as an (un)paid companion? Some might, but not me. I only wish I had left sooner. So, no, I do not ‘miss’ the people who have betrayed me and I’ve had to leave behind. My life follows its inexorable path to its intrinsic end. I must not be ‘owned’ by anyone but the universe.

I have no emotional sentimental ties with unreliable words, unstable feel-goodness, unsubstantiated declarations of “I love you” and I cringe at the kiss-kiss-kissies they blow into the air, into their mobile phones and whatnots, at the very people they had been harshly criticising on the same breath just a second ago. Conflicting stories confound me. I do not need to expand that effort to unravel those knots. I have better use for my limited time on earth.

To the fluffy emotion-driven social minds, I am judged as cold and unfeeling. It used to bother me, as I do not like being misunderstood. Nowadays, the more I embrace my own Beingness, the less I am interested in the types of judgements of me created along paradigms that are not innately understanding of my own. I could be equally harsh on them, for being unreliable and untrustworthy, but I am not. I just leave the scene. It is not my drama, not my libretto, not my symphonic poem to dance around in. (Though every sound, taste, visual capture, texture, movement and smell of my experience is mine to own and write and muse about – so beware, if you don’t wish to be part of my wonderful journey, don’t step near!)

This is not about neurotypicals, neurodivergents etc. just about people who operate along the modality of emotion-making and emotion-exuding that governs their social interactions and ethics. We are just not on the same operating mode. We do not belong in close proximity.

Walking away is the best solution for all. You can find more prancing bodies to fill your frilly pretty social-scapes, and I can breathe again with people who do not revel so much in superfluous confusions, and most importantly, whose words and actions I can trust.

It’s not personal. No, not at all.

4 thoughts on “not personal

  1. Much love sent via the Universe to you my dear friend … I wish we were closer, you would always have a bed, a home with us for as long as you needed, no stings, just because you are a friend and I adore you xxx … However, I must admit, I would have to do major work with Mr T as he dislikes any furbaby bigger than himself, which in Miss L’s case is, much larger … lol … Gentle cuddles, Zeeva hugs and we do understand, honest we do, we so wish we could help in some way … xxx

    • Awww, thank you my dear friend! ❤ Miss L shall not encroach upon sweet Zeeva's personal space in such a rude manner, Miss L can be a cheeky Minx! The thought that I have more friends I can rely on than friend who pull the rug from under me, is a universal comfort indeed. ❤

      • Miss Z and I are glad that you have others you can count on … Just wanted to let you know we would welcome you with open arms as well xxx …

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s