#weyyy

Det gör PISSONT hela tiden och jag mår piss, men jag ser inte hemsk ut iallafall🤩

Dock får jag inte äta med den hahahhaah så jag kan inte äta framför folk för då behöver jag ta ut den och då blir jag utan framtand😓 jag vill genuint typ gråta för då ser jag fruktansvärd ut så jag kommer inte kunna äta på något. Inte balen, inte studentfrukosten, inte min studentmottagning och inga inplanerade event. För då måste jag äta utan fucking framtand och se ut som nån 95åring som har löständer med sig åååååhhhh. Jag kanske till och med kommer skippa min bal för att jag mår så dåligt över det wiiihooo🫠

So what’s it like being the kind of autistic that makes you feel like a child in a young adult’s body?

What’s it like appearing almost normal on the outside, but being as naïve and guileless as you were when you were small on the inside? What’s it like to never grow out of that, ever? What’s it like when people are getting to know you and with each day that passes they slowly begin to realise that you see things completely differently to the way they see them?

What’s it like asking people what they’re talking about over and over and being told nevermind, and not to worry? What’s it like to find some solace in being seen as you are, too young for your body, too small and confused for this world, and yet feeling a flicker of unease as you begin to realise that people also see you as an innocent fool and nothing else?

What’s it like to have the secrets of the universe inside your head?

What’s it like to be full of a child’s joy and an adults sadness? What’s it like to be both protected and underestimated? Cherished and left out?

What’s it like to be everyone’s sweet ball of sunshine?

What’s it like when people never think to look deeper than the surface? What’s it like to never understand what’s going on, ever?

What’s it like to be full of love that sets your soul alight? What’s it like to be full of incandescent anger that could level cities? What’s it like to be a dangerous thing in a pretty, harmless looking vessel? What’s it like to be afraid of yourself sometimes?

What’s it like to love your family so much that you wish you could just spend the rest of your life simply and softly with them? What’s it like to cherish the sweet ordinariness of every day?

What’s it like to be beautiful but unable to recognise yourself in the mirror?