To stim
Authentic, autistic, self-actualizing, repetitive, stereotypic, manneristic, self-stimulatory, true, neurological, weird
This is the story of a man's rite to stim...
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Stim: Repetitive stereotypical behavior used to focus, soothe, or excite oneselfCode:
I have always dreaded going to the mall. Even as a kid, I was never a mall rat. The clanging of cash registers—opening and closing, opening and closing again—the grubby money, and the barotone voice of the security guard overwhelm me. Yet I find myself in the shopping center parking lot this Saturday afternoon. My mission is simple: I've only got to buy a few things, and then I can leave.
A few of the employees know me by name. Well, they call me by name, but it's not the one I call myself: ret*d, Flapper, Birdman. Last time I came here, a couple of teenagers on break tormented me with those names and worse. People snicker, point, and laugh at me. I expect no better, but I only have to persevere for an hour, and I can return to the comfort of home.
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Turdus migratorius chirps in a healthy green oak tree by the door. Its scientific classification is Animalia, Chordata, Aves, Passeriformes, Turidae, Turdus, Turdus migratorius.Code:
I have made it through the door. The lights are so bright, though. I wish the architect made greater use of natural sunlight. I am here for a few pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, a book, and an ice cream. I can see eyes all around me; my palms are sweating already.
I consult the shopping center directory to locate the clothing store I always go to. I find myself tapping the directory with my right index finger at two-second intervals. I set the path I must take. I lock my face and prepare to traverse the crowd.
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Some scientists speculate that the universe began with a Big Bang. All matter was concentrated on a singularity. I have my doubts, but the release of energy from such a collision can be great.Code:
I feel a stopping. I notice a man is in front of me; his fist is shaking.
"Excuse me, Sir."
"Are you blind? Watch where you're going!"
I keep walking, but he follows me.
"Are you stupid or something?"
"Excuse me, Sir, I am going to the clothing store."
"Oh, your royal highness! I am sorry I was an obstacle on your O so noble mission! It is all my fault!"
"Thank you."
Punch! "as*hole!"
I continue on my way, most confused. I run. I enter the store. The fabric is soft. It feels good. I must have lost track of time, though, because an employee approached me.
"Are you having trouble finding anything?"
"No, thank you."
"Well, Sir, if you don't stop touching that dress like that we're going to have to call security to have you removed."
"Yes, m'am, thank you."
Okay, I have to find my clothes and go.
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To be continued...(That means I got bored while writing this.)
18 Sep 2005, 9:41 pm
