Aspie

Day 185: A Whisper and a Breath

| Aspergers Girls
Sam taking a photo of Sam….
geek I am
A Whisper
Sam Craft

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A Whisper

I whisper this.

Sit now my angel and breathe.

Sit now my angel and see.

Sit now in the gratitude and light surrounding you and understand you are never alone.

That behind what you see, beyond the senses that pertain to your perception is more than is imaginable.

You…and this is the whisper…remember only a whisper…

You are like the flower in the field of wild flowers.

Only you are every color, and even beyond color.

There is a whole world behind color, an entire spectrum unknown to thine eyes.

And within the spectrum is how the world speaks.

How life speaks.

I whisper of vibrations that turn the tiniest undetectable existence into magnificent form.

I whisper of the stream of consciousness that can build an entire city of what would seem gold in less than a second.

In that there is not time. It already exists before it is thought.

And this gold is but a light. The light of the spectrum. Everything is and will be a light of the spectrum.

And there is nothing to fear in this light. All is light. Light in weight, light in feeling, light in attitude, light in every feasible way.

The burden in this way is lifted. No pressure. No pain. No air that need be breathed. No feet that need walk. No gratitude because everything is. There is nothing to be ungrateful for, so in this there is no opposite. Only existence.

But remember this is but a whisper.

How can I explain to a flower what it is like to see when she has no eyes?

How can I explain to a bear what it is to borrow, when he takes what he needs?

How can I explain to a bird what it is to be free, when he only knows cage?

How can I explain to a child what it means to be without being when she only knows being?

You see, I only whisper.

But in my whispers you remember.

A part of you always remembers.

~ Sam Craft, July 2012

A friend on my walk

A Breath ( A short goofy tale of love)

I woke up with the sniffles, a little sneezing, too

And I remembered at the parade, I had stepped out in front of you

That strong daddy walking by, with the child on his shoulders

He asked her to cover her face. but it was too late, all ready over

She had spattered and splattered, her sneeze straight towards your face

A shower of toddler headed right to your place

No umbrella to be found, and no time to run

I dodged out in front, and my body I spun

I jet out before you, a mommy to save

All the glorious spit-fall, coming your way

And just to be sure, I breathed in real quick

Sucked in all the germs, so you wouldn’t get sick

~ Sam Craft, July 2012

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I think I realized what love is for me. It’s that feeling I get when I want to breathe in and suck up all the danger, pain, sadness, and fear for someone else, so he or she doesn’t have to feel it.  That’s what love is to me: A deep breath in….that’s all….one deep breath in. Sigh…..how I do adore with all of me.

Day 178: Sometimes When I Blog…on Caffeine

| Aspergers Girls

Sometimes when I blog…

1. I get concerned about what I write, how I come across, and if I am expressing myself accurately. I mean do people really truly understand how quirky I am? Or do I need to prove it more?

I cleaned my study for 3 hours. Frequent readers will notice the neatly organized shelf. You can clap now. I had caffeine. Can you tell? This is not my normal expression.

2. I worry that I am exposing my inner most secrets to an unknown alien race or zombie civilization…or worse…my mother-in-law.

Yes…I call my dog Spastic Colon…but you should hear the name I called her the other night…She smelled really bad….

3. I stress that I will reach day 366 (leap year) two weeks early, on account that I posted a few times too many in one week; and that in actuality I will be ending my year of blogging short, and thusly lying, and making my whole blog, Everyday Aspergers, one giant scam!!!

Totally off subject….but because of a dear, dear friend…they upgraded our first night stay in Maui from standard room to the 2,000 square foot Penthouse with ocean views…..Yes….this was AWESOME

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View from the PENTHOUSE. When in line for free veggie burgers, I was giggling and saying loudly in line: “Boys, should we go back to our PENTHOUSE after this.” And “Wow, I can’t wait to gather at the PENTHOUSE later.”

4. I laugh when my sons inquire when I am going to add advertisements to my posts to start rolling in the cash.

My youngest asks everyday when he can get a high paying job and who employs ten year olds. Today he said that he has everything he wants in life and is so happy he can cry. Amazing what an I-Pod Touch and a Slip-N-Slide can do for a kid! Of course I said, “The test is to be this happy when things aren’t going perfectly well.” He said, “I know.” And then I started thinking I still have a lot of practicing to do until I fully understand that concept myself. Like when it’s the tenth day of no fricken sun in Washington come fall.

5. I miss commenters, wonder what they are like in person, and wish I could visit each and every single person who visits my blog. I think about how long this would take, how much money, and which places in the world have the very best chocolate.

Maui has a secret place in the mountains where you can find fresh baked banana bread (from banana trees on property) with bread dipped in chocolate and ice-cream in the middle. If you send me a ticket to Maui, I’ll take you there!!!

6. I make super good friends that I talk to every single day (AlienHippy) and share intimate details of my life with, and get to act like I’m twelve, and giggle, and joke, and talk about my wood elf fantasy life, and count the months (36) until I can fly to England and meet her!!!

A magical elf land photo just for you AlienHippy. I can’t wait for you to take me to the magical forests in England and introduce me to the Elf People!!! Yay!! he he (Photo on yesterday’s walk)

7. I get obsessed about photography. Every moment is an opportunity to share my world with people! A hailstorm. A party. A stream. A tree. Heck, even a sock nailed to a post. Everything is more exciting and worthy of sharing!!!

Hail on my birthday!!! The Gods were celebrating!

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Freak storm with lightening and thunder and hail! Happy Birthday to me!

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Coming down in buckets. Neighbor said she hadn’t seen the likes of a storm like this in years! July 2012 Yep…..SUMMER

8. I wake up in the middle of the night with the best poem in all the universes, and scribe the words in detail, only to awake in the morning thinking who wrote this poop? Then I spend two hours re-crafting my words, and feel like a genius, when my sea sister , blog brother , Sweet Angel, or long time supporter, George, compliment me. If they only could see the original draft…we’d all get a good laugh then.

I love this photo….maybe a poem….Sail on mice and wheat grass of ebony mountains with Robin Hood.

9. I wait nervously staring at the computer, waiting for that first comment to validate that I actually communicated and sent my thoughts out into cyberspace to be tracked and received by a real person.

Sending out an S.O.S.

10. I want to stop! I want to quit! I want to say enough. Until I get a message from a female with Aspergers saying how much my words mean to her. Then I tear up, and my heart swells big, and I know I am on the right path, or I am the Grinch…or something like the Grinch, with an over-sized heart who wants to join hands and sing around a tree.

Boardwalk Path through state park yesterday. 🙂

11. I get obsessed with stat numbers that catch my attention. Like today 66,600 visits was the total around mid-afternoon, and I just couldn’t settle my mind until the three sixes disappeared all together. Or the 513 subscriber. I love 13, and was so giddy at the 13; that subscriber 514 was a wee bit of a letdown. And at one point today, my post 116 Reasons I Know I Have Aspergers had exactly 116 views! Now that was coolness to the max. Did I mention the quirky aspect?

Lucky me!!! Three deer. Count them. Three, stopped in front of my van in Pacific Grove, California when I was about to make a right turn. 🙂 “Oh, I have to take these photos for my blog!” Boys: Rolling eyes.

12. I meet another blogger in real life!!! Someone I didn’t know at all 4.5 months ago, that now is a part of my waking, walking, breathing, flesh world! We live 11 hours away from each other. And turns out our parents live about one mile from one another, and we both lived in WA and CA at different parts of our lives. And we both have a great “drunk” look, without a drop of alcohol. By the way K, my husband said he thinks you’re hot. (My biggest worry in meeting K was that she would finally discover how my I-Mac computer is god-like in its ability to hide my wrinkles and shrink my nose in up close photo shots.)

Cutie K, laughing!

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Our “How sweet our we?” Pose

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Our drunken pose….seen late at night in local dive bars….lol My nose is not that big….it’s the angle….my husband reassured me..several times

13. Oh….and I sometimes forget what I was going to do. Here’s the sock photo.

A sock photo taken entirely for your enjoyment.

14. I spend up to three hours looking for the perfect song to match my mood.

15. I say WHAT THE HECK!!! LIVE a LITTLE, GIRLFRIEND! No one, absolutely no one, will care if you publish at 11:53 pm, instead of midnight, and count the post as the next day’s post. It’s okay. Really. It’s all going to be Okay!

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I was having a really good hair day in this photo. Don’t you think?

July 2012 With a kind friend in California

Day 177: A Stream of Echo

| Aspergers Girls


Washington State Park

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A Stream of Echo

Thine every word awakens me, a scented melody sweet parading down tickled spine

Transparent rum drops trickling through bittersweet fantasy

A sunlit swan, I expand wings and bask midst the ripe ringing joy that is thou

Intemperance cometh, unbridled trembling thoughts from fledgling child

A wanting mistress bows emancipated to mountain erupting

Cometh twin volcano with esoteric eyes of yearning, enter painted dream’s rippled lake

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A stream of echo, and I am made ruby lipstick to thine mouth

Touched and lined thin along treasured opening

Nomad mighty, suitcase imprinted, whither thou travels, I follow

A friendship bracelet wrapped round cherished throat, grasping the vibration of soul

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Feed me with sound, one upon the other, carry me to the bones that move

The jaws that clutch, the tongue emerged, dripping moisture, a taste of substance formed

Whisper one syllable, enough to turn woman into starving ghost

Speak uninhibited to the open air that stirs, to the course of calling

Speak now as timber of folly cascades through tumbled heart

And find this sinking sun harbored softly beneath thine wanting woes

~

by Samantha Craft

July 2012


My front yard

Day 164: Undeep Road Thoughts

| Aspergers Girls

What I thought about while I drove eleven hours (700 miles) to California.

  1. “God gives us dope! God gives us dope! God gives us dope!” (Remembering back to when my young boys screamed this through the house, after they misheard the song lyrics: “God gives us hope.” I never had the heart to correct them.)
  2. Oh, I can pinch much less fat around my waist now.
  3. I wonder if I should use the all-wheel drive option for hills. Oh, what the heck. Let’s see what happens.
  4. Blue sky! I see blue sky! I wonder how tan I’ll get?
  5. “You know what?  Bird shit could easily be considered abstract art. Just look at it. (points to sidewalk) Even a good artist would have a hard time duplicating that.” ~ My middle son’s comment a few weeks ago
  6. The time when I was twelve, the seventh grade fieldtrip was to Ashland, Oregon, a seven hour school bus ride. On arrival I stepped on a nail and had to go the emergency room for a tetanus shot. On departure I threw up all over the backseat.
  7. The time I was a teacher and went to science camp with my fifth grade class and ended up in the emergency room for severe breakout of poison oak.
  8.  I’ve been in an ambulance at least six times.
  9. The time when I was a student at middle school, and in science class a boa constrictor snake wrapped itself around my waist, went through my belt hoops, and got stuck. I had to give the boa constrictor’s owner my pants to take home. Why does weird stuff always happen to me?
  10. There are a whole lot of songs about love and heartbreak on the radio, that pretty much cover every possible scenario, and that I’ve just about experienced every single scenario.
  11. My muse. My darling muse. The enigma who makes me read, write, and digest erotica.
  12. My youngest son is much like a wild hamster in the way he nests and clutters up the backseat of the van. Is there such a thing as wild hamsters?
  13.  I never ever see tailgaters in Washington, but see them all over California.
  14. Who thought it was a good idea to close California state parks? Who thought it was a good idea to elect the Terminator as a governor?
  15. Country singers can make anything sound sad and sexy.
  16. It was so kind of the restaurant waitress to subtract the price of the vegetarian omelet from my bill after I politely explained that they might want to be careful not to accidentally have chunks of ground beef in the veggie omelet.
  17. How wonderful that you have to let someone pump your gas in Oregon. It’s the law.
  18. How fortunate that out of all the gas stations in the upper portion of California that I happened to pick the only free full-service gas station. And that the man with the one arm and missing teeth who pumped my gas had the most beautiful energy and spirit. And that I could feasibly marry a man with one arm and missing teeth. And that looks do not matter to me nearly as much as the energy I share with a person. And that I need to stop worrying about my looks, because I radiate love and positive energy. And I am beautiful just like the man with one arm and missing teeth.
  19. How great that so many people have the capacity to travel the manmade road, through manmade passage ways, passages that were exploded with dynamite.
  20. Trucks are sexy. I would make a lousy truck driver.
  21.  I think way too much about way too much, and could probably survive with my sanity intact in solitary confinement because of my vivid imagination and inquisitive thought processes.
  22. For some reason the phrases “pump my gas” and “big rig” sound erotic.
  23. I’m so happy. I wonder if I drank too much iced-tea.
  24. I’m having a really good hair day.

Day 160: Decreasing Photons

| Aspergers Girls

I have the hardest time writing when I am trying not to confront what is troubling my mind.

At those times, when angst is knocking on spirit’s door, I tend to write romantic and lust-filled poetry, or distract myself with stories from the past. I tend to grasp onto my muse, my anchor, a jolt that compels me into another state of reality.

Today I am insecure. I am insecure about my appearance, my personhood, my ability to shine, and my very spirit. I am looping in thought. And the taters are hitting the fan. I am worried that I am not enough, even though innately I know I am. I am worried that I am a facade, even though at my core I know I am authentic. I am worried about my health and a host of other items.

Insecurity is an emotion I’ve dealt with pretty much my entire life on earth, at least ever since my mother and father divorced. My insecurity quadrupled in size when my mother divorced my stepfather, and I was never able to see my step brothers and sisters again. My insecurity grew when my best friend was kidnapped, my pets died as I predicted, my homes constantly changed, and my mother became lost in her own world. The emotion mutated and divided when I mistook a teenager for the man I would marry someday and teenage girls for trusted confidants. And grownups as safety. The emotion enveloped the whole of me when I reached adulthood and realized I was very much still an infant.

I remember being so brave, so strong, and trying and trying to do the right thing. If I could only do the right thing, then life would be manageable. I remember with clarity the day my friends collected starfish on the ocean shore; I remember running up the sandy hill to the the truck, and hovering in the camper shell weeping, because no one would listen as I cried and shouted on the beach that the starfish were living creatures, and my friends were killing them. I remember lots of times crying in enclosed spaces…in tents, in closets, under covers, in bushes….anywhere I could escape the sadness surrounding me.

I figured if I tried hard enough, I could make a difference in my world and within myself. Take away the horrible pain. I thought if I tried enough, I too would get the promises, the opportunity, the good stuff.

I tried so hard that I succeeded in many ways, I gather. Only I don’t know what I succeeded in or for whom.

I like to pretend sometimes I have the answers.

I like to pretend I am carrying this grand light of wisdom and trust, of faith and hope, of all things precious and divine.

I like to pretend ego is in the backseat, Source at the wheel, and my present moment is the only one that matters.

I like to pretend.

I can’t tell imaginings from reality. I can’t find the line. I doubt the line even exists.

Sometimes I think I shine too much. Sometimes I think I lost the earthly cloak that stops the inner glow, that stops me from becoming depleted. I wonder what I’ve given up in order to shine. I wonder if the dark is perhaps a better place to go.

I thought writing would be my avenue, my escape, a way I could finally be me. But the pressure is building and the patterns are starting, and everything seems a repeat. Again I am soother,  lifter, giver, sweet Sam, adored,  gentle, kind…so kind. I’m still flawed. I get that. I’m not perfect. But I lean to the side of trying to be perfect, trying to be what I think others want to see. I make others my gods, my suitor, my love. I make people my exact reflection; their opinions my barometer. I see in my own mirror what I imagine others see. And then I tell myself not to. To stop. To trust. And then I wonder what and whom to trust, when my very existence seems a dream.

No matter how many times I tell myself I am enough, I still search. I think that if a certain person loves me then everything else will be erased. I dream of being rescued. I dream of escaping this life. A life that by most standards is wonderful. I have no idea where I would escape to. I have absolutely no idea. I just know I long to escape.

My mind is constant. Everything and everyone is questioned. Each comment I answer is weighted and analyzed. Each word I write a drop of blood, a hope that I spoke correctly, I answered honestly, I did my best. Each letter of the alphabet carries the weight of an elephant.

Typing is not typing. Typing is risking. Each word leads to thoughts. Each thought to more evaluation. Why do I care? Why can’t I let go? Why can I not accept me? Why does one person hold my world and my worth? Why can I not care only about the other and not about me? Why is my ego still here? Why do I have any motive at all except love? What is the right amount of drive? Am I too driven? Am I not driven enough? Am I too honest? Am I not honest enough? What is telling the whole truth, if not laying out my emotions? What is truth?

And yes, what of this light? This grand light? Is it anything beyond descending and decreasing photons………….

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