This is my artistic response to the Clinician who diagnosed me as being autistic--autistic in the sense that I had no imagination, little, if any empathy, and an invalid emotional and interior life.
Perceptions of an atypical Atypical
By Trent
Doctor believes that A-typical expressionism equates to…
After they took one look at a document depicting a childhood of
unread interpersonal nuances:
Socially he lags behind
like gifted children in the No Child Left Behind Program
Life-Altering Recommendations when brought to authorities
became life-changing demands
Now it’s as though not a day goes by without an
internalized funeral held in his deceased honor
His obsessive attention to radiantly fused mixtures of color
is invisible with central coherence
because those in white coats see it as evidence of distorted vision
They take advantage of his naïveté by telling him he’s blind
all because he has no desire to discern their dull minds
Before diagnosis art teacher saw his fusions of color as “rife with
raging reds clashing against peaceful blue’s revolution”
in the midst of a civil war for intrapersonal supremacy
Afterwards she sees it as evidence of his emotions as clashing
colors of paint spattered together in emotionless outbursts
Fire alarm sounded
So they forced him to use his sketching hand as an extinguisher
Man of art is superficially deemed fa***t
This he knows
Sets his talent ablaze in the flames that before evaluation
Made him light up intensely when art teacher was inspired by more than just his artwork
The worst kind of pain!
But therapists gotta give him some credit
He knows that they think God blessed them with a golden-steel clad complex with a hundred floors of luxurious bath spas filled with personality type stats
They gave him a stern look as they grasped the iron
Although he easily discerned the increments of plastic and gold spray paint on his evaluator’s hands what did it matter?
Without central coherence
No one noticed their arrogance
Hence no one saw his potential
In the case of these evaluators
They instinctively moderated their hand-grasps
For if they grip too hard
Their complex will collapse along with their careers and so on…
God’s faux hand-me-down came with an angel
In the form of a seductively nurturing grad student
With a harp and halo akin to the rest of the complex
After diagnoses evaluators sent him to see her
She said she understood him but
was adverse to the dirt on his shoes’ exterior
She didn’t realize that the interiors of sneakers are way more comfortable
than those of high heels
He became hypersensitive when she kept plucking the wrong chords on her harp
that wasn’t in tune to begin with
The dangerously high voltage of her “halo” shocked him into believing what DSM standards defined him as
Leaving his self-esteem diffused like autistic identities
Only increased evaluators and kept the social worker’s from losing power like her halo
To redeem herself, she later sold it to an unemployed engineer
Who made his living off of proving the myth that “all Pergsters think mechanically alike”
Leaving spectrum-ites to see themselves as devoid of humor and joy
perceiving themselves as humanoids made of flesh
Forced them to turn to narcissism without developing a self to be centered in
Evaluator’s Ungodly Compound implied that Satan is a misunderstood
millennium plus- year old child
with a burger up his ass
When he could see, he saw in gray
But since evaluators is color-blind
They said he saw in pitch black or pale white
When he first met the therapists,
he thought they expected him to answer them systematically
He recognized how upset they get when a unique thinker upsets their social routine
So he limited his facial expressions, seeing the cold and spastic grimaces
in between shifty smiles bursting with nervous laughter
they made it so that he couldn’t see the discreet lack of charm of the bourgeois psychologist
The methods used to test him are just as mechanical
as his neurological evaluation made him appear to be
And now his psychological profile
Forces his personality to conform to it’s criteria
Or to remain authentic by adopting Cobain’s romanticism
A therapist recommends social isolation, rigid routines, and a lack of exposure to new, fascinating situations in order for him to live a fulfilling life
No wonder “intervention”
inspires psychophysically self-inflicted wounds
Now as alcohol and fatty acid ridden tears evaporate back into his skin
It’s safe to say he’s homicidally allergic to enclosed squared cardboard
A week or two later his parents called and expressed that their son’s
self esteem was suddenly but unsurprisingly diminished
as was his desire to share enjoyment in others’ company
Psychologists expressed sympathy for mirroring somebody else’s feelings
and seeing their arrogance captured in another person’s last reflection of despair
Would,for the remainder of their days, cause them great suffering
from the guilt that they were afraid to care
03 Jan 2007, 10:13 pm
