Don't talk to me about the real world
The clock that punctures my son's rib cage each morning
The borders of inflexibility, conformity, "rigor. "
Don't talk to me about academics
The buzzing A B C s
He knows them already.
And so many things.
"There's a... place for us..."
I'm so tired of going
against the grain
Human meat suits hooks
hanging in resistance
The buck strung
stops here.
And what is this "real world?"
"You have to teach them how to function in the real world..."
"Yes but this is the real world..."
What if neurodivergence is just neuro evolution?
What if
the expansion of this
consumerist
capitalist
patriarchal
paradigm has reached it's peak well past it's spoil prime has reached
it's potential man must conquer
man, man
just eroding
molding falling
apart
Nature
the Universe
the dawning of the age of Aquarius
Expansion of the machine
the technology that
works for me
works for you
works for us
and never the other way around.
it means
the dawning of the collective
it means
the deepening of circuits and wires in ye old cranium
human computer
We are aliens
We are human
Let it be
The body keeps stopping me
Each time I try
to fit him
me
in this shape
this energy
of "the real world"
Somewhere
deep
there is a child
who is saying NO MORE
little matilda
brain power
stubborn genius
body
heart
and soul stuck
The buck strung
stops here.
I cannot
will not
move
another step
in this
direction.
Rewire wildly
Laugh at the crumbling walls
Fumble in the dust
The king and the castle are no more
And now we're left to pick up the pieces
squeeze together
this new infinite puzzle:
I am Human
I am Free
I am You
I am Me
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I am a Mother of a neurodivergent child.
I am a neurodivergent parent, artist
just recently diagnosed with ADHD in adulthood.
This has been an interesting thing to process.
I am inspired by a comment my Shamanic Coach offered...