Intimate journal?

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From Stephen Dunn's A Postmortem Guide. Seems to fit in here somewhere

Tell them that at the end I had no need
for God, who'd become just a story
I once loved, one of many
with concealments and late-night rescues,
high sentence and pomp. The truth is
I learned to live without hope
as well as I could, almost happily,
in the despoiled and radiant now.

I have found out that life thrives within a very restricted range of temperatures. 110 is the maximum that some bacteria can tolerate. As for the minimum: below freezing, organisms can survive but they don't do very much. Perhaps more interesting are the organisms that can live, grow and metabolise at low temperatures, between 1 and 15 degrees C. Anyhow animal life needs to maintain a temperature arond 37 degrees. So, in a sense, life, or at least animal life, could be interpreted as a strenuous effort to maintain some warmth without ending up in boiling condition.
What has this to do with autism? Not much, perhaps, except that these kind of of thoughts are occupying the mind of an autistic person.
Anyhow I have often thought how our ways to define good and evil are tied to temperature and physical conditions: warm, light, movement, some colors (green, blue, red - to some extent- violet, azur) are connected with life, while black and white are the colors of mourning.

Has a fair amount to do with autism.

The abilities that others posses that we lack function to maintain homeostasis in the individual's human social environment as endothermic temperature regulation maintains homeostasis in the individual's physical environment.

I'm an aspie. Around other people, I have no idea whether the situation calls for shivering or sweating.

I was with a girl in park in London, it was nearly fifty years ago, around us there were many couples embracing and petting and not very far from “going all the way through”. I was not accustomed to such liberty of behavior in my own country, where people were some times legally persecuted for a kiss in public places. At the outside border of the park I was looking at a last floor where there were lights on and people. The idea which was landing on me was that of homely home, where people lived, cooked, slept in a decent, lively warm atmosphere, or so I fantasized; I had never experienced such a thing in my home. I said to my girl: “I would like a thing like that”. “What a nice thought”, she answered. She thought of something like marriage, a family: things quite out of my reach, but in that instant I was nourishing myself such ideas.

The vast majority of cell divisions in the human body are mitotic, with meiosis being restricted to the gonads.
The division of the gonads starts after the first phases of differentiation, which, as far as I have understood, is dominated by mitosis. Meiosis is a particular way cells divide, where the chromosomes of spermatozoa half themselves in order to combine with equally halved chromosomes of ova.
May be a genetist can clarify things better.

Meieosis is restricted to the female body I believe because it is the first cellular division of the embryo. All other cell divisions are mitosis and merely multiply numbers of cells.

Imagine that you are notified that the day after tomorrow you will go before a firing squad. In the time you are left your capacity for concentration will reach never experienced levels.

Let’s take another example. You probably know that, in a circus, acrobatic numbers are progressively more difficult to perform. The last ones reach the climax.

Does this have to do with our life (or death)? Are they metaphoric statements? or parables?

Some religious people, realising the time they have remaining may be years or hours and that they have to fit a lot of devotions in before Judgement Day, seem to acquire a phenomenal capacity for learning and for filling every minute with useful activity. It's that acute awareness of the preciousness of every moment that you only acquire when you realise how few of them could remain.

There's only one at the top.