Asberger's Syndrome More Condition_symptoms

Ode to the unknown, as they say.

Retire sentimental at my age, for some, it makes no sense, for of others, it represents something quite magical.
It does not make sense for those who would engage never to this type of occupation. It is magic for those who offer it. We understand from those who need to understand, then. Everything is fine in all the worlds including the best, if any.

I go, alone, far.

Anything that is not next, 2 blocks from the friends are away. Not to mention the XIII arrondissement, which is squarely on another continent. So when it is 2 hours by train from Carillon is the end of the world, virtually wherever you are.
Feeling suddenly, to find someone at 3 and about 45 minutes at night is, if not impossible, too long and complicated and expensive and tiring and all to do to bring himself to do it. And what timing is not bad, is that when you take a romantic retreat, we did want to reach anyone I know not what time of day or night. Never. Person. This would not be honest, we would not ourselves since we're already half way into our heads, half elsewhere, in a non-defined, easily definable, that serve no purpose at all, an appointment of this kind during a retreat sentimental. It would be to find friends by not sending them a word of the evening. And that would be cheating retirement for that, too. Come the rush by imposing an outsider, like that, someone who must be saying things in sentences, and if it is smiles. Comment sea breeze, is already feeling a little less. I do not exchange opinions, I do not listen to advice, I live at all, for nothing. I drift without causing anyone, he would not nice. Some organized chaos can not accommodate one in their closet, and we do not write a diary to make it play.

No, really, retirement is not given to sentimental this kind of activity.

I say "retreat sentimental" because I have no other words at hand. There's no real feelings that I want to retire, but a general atmosphere that I want to see from afar, and then forget, then resume, perhaps, on his return. A sort of annual review. Without really being one, but not quite annual either, since all the resource of what we now call this "withdrawal" is not to think about what we withdrew, precisely. And renew as necessary, so what if it's 2 times.
interest, then you might ask, is ousqu'il?
Ben, is that interest ousqu'il is unclear, interest. It is found in the dark like that, without really realizing it. If it is, we find it.
Honestly, it's not very important.

I'm alone, far away.

Some friends leave in groups of friends, and others work together, even in the evening to make the summer atmosphere around a pastis on the terrace. And me, luxury, I'm alone, far away. Not isolated to the point where my phone does not pick up if someone calls me, but withdrawn to the point that we dare not call me. Besides, my phone, I cut. He said "the world is yours" when I turn it off, even as; which, if you think about a second, is rather ironic since, precisely, the world, I want to get away when I do not want to reach me. The other world is, really.

Since I have this habit, I looked observed zyeuter, even took notes, I saw someone do that. And once again, as 10 years, not one single girl my age to voluntarily withdraw his feelings no one knows exactly where to make you know what. Person. Queudale. Not that I derive pride, if I leaned on the subject, perhaps it would find material I worry. Still, I've seen anyone do that, I say, that's all.

And then there was a girl that I met, what was all the time alone, and that caught my attention. Yet this is not the kind of girl who holds attention, much to say right now. No attention to those carried on aesthetics or on any mixture of mucous, say. Really, There was only her who fanned these two tendencies.
younger, more stupid, I found that the reason for his loneliness and then, with time and intelligence, and of course the genius that characterizes me, I learned that everyone had friends, even girls attractive and not neglected like it. She always a friend as ugly and badly dressed, perhaps even uglier, if she has chosen. It's like that's the rule the game

But no, I always saw her alone and not look too complain, which I did not care quite a blow: Would there someone else like me? and that's what it looks like?
I wanted to be blasted on the spot.
Or, make an inquiry on the spot.
Between one and another, who knows why, I quickly made my choice.

was easy. She went every day to the same place to drink his tea, like an old English never married, maybe virgin, again. Find that a miss in advance in the occupation of any old that his youth was waiting, without shame. And, since cross had quite a few times and I had noticed in her the desire to know, manifested by his chin forward toward me and little discomfort teenager greeting me, I was sure that installing me thoroughly at the next table, she spoke to me. I bet my mother on this one. Or my beer, say.

The place was really not to my taste, a crappy pseudo-rustic not even authentic, a fool or a catcher qg regulars aged 50 and older. I PMU's favorite corner, or the bar of Normandy, m'enfin good, it was there she was, so that's where I moved nonchalantly pencil.
Lalalilala, I put my bag and orders a coffee, Youplaboum, I took out my book, ahlala, there's the sun, want want want, so that's where I put my glasses already and.

-Hello.
Simple as that, j'vous told.
-Hello. With
looked a little surprised, I must.
-You ... Blowin
she searches for her words. There's not much that gives me the creeps more than anyone initiating the conversation and that has nothing to say at the end of the second replica. Made Hot
-huh.
Well, I help as I can. And besides, I do not help, I investigate it's different.
-Ouhla yes.
-Hmmmm.
-You ...
Blowin it back on. She has not only say "you" if it blocks it. You can
-tu me. It has crossed several times, we must have the same decade, so me, that bother me.
My god, I knew I was not able to stoop to this point for an investigation.
-Oh! So much the better, it bothers me vous a bit myself.
Yes, I understand.
-Pardon?
-No, but whenever you have vouvoyée, well, you do not finish your sentence.
Ah, no, that's because I'm very shy.
-Ok. ... Ok about me so uncomfortable. Forgiveness. Excuse me, I did not ... I thought ...
-No but there's no problem, I wanted to talk to you because I had seen you in recent days, quite a few times, I thought, was the same age, it's stupid, "will talk to him "all that and then I dared not because I thought that maybe wants you to be alone, finally, we speak to you, you were not really seem to want to talk to you, so good, but then, you're there, and we speak so it's nice, What they're not alone. What do you do in life?

Ok, uh, and that's being shy?

Heu-I.
My coffee arrives. Should I keep a notebook where I would note whenever a coffee saved me a phrase that I did not want to finish, I was forced to begin. I would opt for the 17,298 · times today. Or something in that taste away.

-I not find my damn glasses!
There is a way to change the subject while subtle, have you seen this.
Oh, I'll lend you mine if you like!

So we are already best friends, the "shy" and me? Ok, stop, you stop, the investigation is complete, repack the gear, it folds. Disperse.

"No thank you, I, I had not seen earlier, I would not even allow myself a coffee, I gotta go.

Beginnings in an emergency needs to be ok to leave 3 € on the table without waiting for change alors que ce jus ne valait même pas les 2€10 facturés.

-Mais, tu vas où? Tu fais quelque chose ce soir?

-Je rentre à Paris. A la prochaine !

La fille seule comme moi n’était pas seule comme moi. La fille seule était seule, foutrement, et se cherchait une amie. Elle avait cru la voir en la personne de moi-même qui, précisément fuyait toute compagnie humaine. C’est mal foutu quand même la vie, parfois. Enfin, pour elle, surtout.
Je suis pas méchante, entendons nous bien.
La façon dont je parle de l’esseulée moche et mal habillée n’est pas vraiment révélatrice de l’amour que I can bring to the human being, it's just that, in general, I find it very awkward to force someone to hand it to a friend. She put me uneasy. I had nothing at all to say.

On the way, I regretted the excuse that I had served. Because, no, I did not return to Paris and would be dangerous to move freely in this hole without falling face to face with its air of "well that you were part j'croyais / ah 't 're here, owl / We'll drink a coffee? ".
She said" nice "when she was cap 'to do it again. What is going to be able to do then?

Tell him the truth?
Nobody likes the truth.
Especially when it does not go their complexion.
So I lie. I will say that I had to go into effect, and then I came back. And even before she asks me questions, then I say a bit of truth. Too bad. I'm here to be quiet. I hope she has a good time. She let me spend some time alone. I hope she will understand. I even cross your fingers, last night in my bed, she understands me if, God forbid, I should find myself in a situation of confrontation. It will take one day I stop crossing their fingers for nothing and make vows to 10:22 p.m., more than my age.

But she was there this morning at the terrace with his tea with Miss Marple. And she challenged me. And I was unable to produce not even a sound with my mouth. So I sat beside her and listened to everything that we do together, she and I and how it was nice to be found. She had plenty of shops to find me, and it left me no time to say that shopping was not my cam, and if I had to do, it would not be with a girl dressed as my piano teacher of 75 years. Receive as many beauty tips from a girl who has her eyebrows plucked very V-shaped She wanted to show me her cousin, Assistant Mayor ump, and I could not even squeeze the ump was giving me fits of giggles that she was already taking appointments. She touched my hair to know how to have the same loops and there, I caught his arm and stopped dead.

-Sorry, but no.
-Pardon?
-No. Not
-what?
"You do not touch my hair.
-... Ah. Forgiveness.
-Yeah.
-No, but I just wanted to know ... how they were soft or not, I'd like to ...
And if I want to know me if you got even an ounce of decency in your brain, I'm going to open your skull to search?
-...
-No. I will not. So do not touch my hair.

The waitress had decided, god knows why, we offer a new tour. I guess she had finally managed to make love 1 or 10 months since she tried and that happiness continued to circulate in parts of his body. Normandy is not the Lido, eh.

-Cheers.
God it was disarming to be nice, too, when I had presented my Mr. Hyde.
-A mine, yes.
And then she knew not even drink.
Finally, I asked him his name. Lucille, as the song.
-What song?
My heart fell definitely in my socks.





I who had unscrambled n'entretenir for any kind of intimacy with people I see for 15 years here, I had to make me be like that, on a sudden large head.
'll teach me.


-maispastrop-

Cystitis. More Condition_symptoms

Ground control to Major Tom

We should all spend our lives in transit.
I believe in the magic power of trains, planes and buses. I do not even speak to large and large boats that make trips of several days.
I issue however some reservations about taxis, like any good Parisian, and it is not for you I will explain why. -If you do not see what I am referring, do you feel lucky, just
.- But, transport, real ones, those we do not see the driver, the ones where we rub unknown passengers, we graze, sometimes, those where the landscape scrolls now Tiny and remote, sometimes life-size, right there, and rustic perhaps .... those home my hopes of happiness for mankind. All humanity. Just that. Yes, yes. I firmly believe.
fact, and be thought a tad, there's nothing else I feel more able to make a man happy that the journey. No not the destination but the journey from one point to another, and magic with which this space-time of all the possible possession of our cortex, and our brains-or what's left for us back what drives us and that, strangely, has no place in our thoughts and daily musings.
Perhaps because, from day to day dreaming and thinking have not really belong. Simply, perhaps. Maybe.

Often, the prospect of a TGV to settle into a vacation for a month in Provence excites me more than I make in Provence for the month. I'm not ashamed to say. It does not mean that the month ahead Provencal I'm not envy, it simply underscores the impatience to feel the scarcity of emotions that fill me when I moved to a specific place in a city and at the same place few hours later I am elsewhere. In another city. Somewhere where we do sometimes speak the same language, either, not with the same accent, and where I myself am still trying to translate what I feel when we need already, it seems, be careful have forgotten nothing and pay attention to the distance between walking and the dock.
I'll forget everything, though. And the distance between the tread and the platform never stops, never, never grow up. It is absolutely hungry to be more sizable, this distance. It is quite exhausting. And fascinating at once.
And all these things I thought during the drive will be suspended forever, because they are not productive or practical, but always buried somewhere and furious. Not one to let himself get or set somewhere.
This would, if I wanted to be imaged, like animal in me that does not leave the nest until their nose ahead at + 50 km / h. It means I am their niche for those who do only half. Bears hibernate in winter, well, them, my animals furious, they bloom during movement.

I would like my office is a cab station.
I really like it.
Pace Paris on the table which I layer a lot of papers and ideas, too, sometimes.
I want my nice table in Paris, once I installed myself, teletransporting is a train that would not otherwise destination one who would know that when I have nothing more to say, it will be ok , we can go home.
And it is that we never no more to say.
Or you're dead.

The train then went through pain episodes. The kind of troublemakers who sprinkled a little more than crumbs of shame on the station agents. And civil servants in general, I guess.
First, well, it will be late as you make your train.
And besides, we do not know how many minutes will the delay. But
regularly, it very regularly, something like every 5 minutes, you will ensure that the delay is effective and our incompetence is worse.
Then you will board the train, yes, but there will be a signaling problem, a problem that at one stop, we finally mark a kind of arrest. A stop that we can not say if it is permanent or not.
When the train eventually leave, we will tell you that because of the problems cited above, we will roll at low speed. But we do not know for how long. Neither really how fast, for that matter. You
announces delay that already but can not speak out who will ultimately train station, the terminal, where all everyone seems anxious to arrive.

Then people start to speak.
And it's not quite what I like in the concept of travel, the unexpected result that everyone finds it normal to express his feelings anyhow. The initial idea was to let my feelings free play and quiet, in fact, I should tell them. And damn. Note to self: tell them. Tell them before starting.

I see they do not like the prospect of spending an extra hour here, so I conclude with what I sense of the deduction they intend this as a simple gear train.
makes me sorry for the train in question, the train home to my animals and rare furious. I want to apologize to the train. And furious with my animals.
should I stop believing the whole time that everything has a soul. But seriously, when you find yourself in a situation where, shamefully, you think about the best way to apologize for your sudden and boorish fellow with a machine, you will understand my sorrow, you say you also need that I Quit to believe all the time that everything has a soul.

I exasperated by the vulgarity of the passengers, the banality with which they welcome the new dress of course they are pissed off customer at light speed, I begin to realize they are not, themselves, here to enjoy the journey, but to get from one place to another. Point.
"We'll still all from one place to another," I tell myself. "Let them calm down a little there," I think. It makes me mad that they do not meet this more specific location where all the fantasies and memories can all grow. It makes me crazy.
And it's not like we were on a Paris / New York filled with people, finally, talking heads, who should reap the contract. No, today we are in September, as they say, and I see you, you're old, you do not go, you change your location because you can retire, you ' imposes perhaps because you forced boredom. So, why wait to get to a place where you will not have to live for more than one you just left.
question mark.
And nobody waits for you. Nobody expects you nowhere.
"Mind you, therefore, be less anxious," I want to shout.


During the trip, I made my little sentimental affair nomad.
I thought about things I never think. I was happy the delay, which happens rarely. I enjoyed the smell of the chairs of the train. I sympathized with those who found themselves in the conference room to decide the pattern that will adorn the seats. I liked the grounds of seats, and seats. I even lowered the shelf to house my computer and tell it all. While it railed
everywhere, I had one wish, remember how much I'm ok with the movement, even if it stagnates. So I had to write it.
And no, after a few minutes, like 14, 15,-which is much in terms of seconds, or delay for example-the shelf and I wound up on the idea of telling the truth because event that he was much more exciting to think of things, widgets, snippets of ideas and concept of abortions, that the capture of black and white. Exits to forget.

There are those who have a home they like and they want recover quickly. There are those who support a shitty life and are happy to escape. There are others for whom everything goes well, who get a lovely home to find a double life adored. There is the beautiful family, forced to go to the house of a father who just died. Yal'antiquaire that he, not to mention home or life, or what he likes or those who die, must take the train, and takes the train every day that God made, and then.

is true that the space between the tread and the platform is strong, at least as far as my heels, I had to cling to the railing, then, oh no, a man's shoulder, obviously, oops.

Ah pardon. I just grab the railing.
"I beg you.
He said that without really considering me. I like that, it helps me, without considering me. The idea that I am elegance.
-Thank you.
"I beg you.

Good. A few minutes pass, it happens in life.

"Due to a signaling problem, we are forced to park at the station."

-Ca, they have already told us.
It is for me. Or vacuum, I do not know.
Yes, yes.
and I speak to him and the void, not to take risks but be polite to both.

I do not want to talk about this. And why not rain or shine, for that matter. If he had listened to what I said earlier, he would know that I did not feel like talking at all. That elegant politeness is perfect, that we must stick to that and stop believing that because we are the passengers of a train, we would be slaves of the same phobias. And what a bonus we would all share in an orgy of complaints and claims. No. No no and no.

Me because I have to take. And there, I do not know if I have it.
-Hmmmm.
I can not help but wonder if this is not because the equivalent of my train. Maybe the train was to him a subway. Perhaps it is because he intends in this daydream out the window, maybe there a visit he wants to imagine the scene, perhaps ...
-A every time, I will have it.
Y 'has surely regularly.
I go slowly.
-At worst ... every hour, I add. I take my
precautions.
-I dunno, I schedule somewhere.
He rummages in his pockets, cunt. I want him to tell me he expects to be on a seat not too forward, not too far behind, nor near the toilet to retrieve something crazy. Or keep quiet forever.

-Look, a y'en every hour.
"Then you shall have it.
How?
-Bin ... One way or another, you will. At one time, or the one after. But you will.
Yes. Yes, of course. That's true.
Bon.
"But I do not know which one I have.

it spits its Valda brothel. What is he so eager to find, I want to know.

"Due to a signaling problem, we are obliged to park in the station for an indefinite period."

-Ca is accurate! I
of humor, a little. Other

minutes pass. It will happen as the minutes pass, you'll see.

-N prevents it, it will be complicated if I can not arrive for dinner. You'll see your family?
that I wanted to know his life, now he wondering about mine.
-I ... I
no desire to talk about my life, I want to smoke. You
-fire?
I like to ask people who smoke if they have fire. I expect also that one day I answer "no" since the time I ask.
He released his lighter.
My mother hates delays.
-Is it just a mother who is passionate about this? I
of the absurd, just to see. The smoke tickles my throat, I'm fine.
How?
-Imagine a mother, an appointment for dinner with a son who arrived three hours late, and the mother who throws when she opens the door, "my dear son, you're always late, that's what I like about you, we may never know when to put the roast in the oven, you are hanging to your imagination, my dear son! ". Imagine.
"You're not in a hurry, you, eh?
"I do not have time for that, no.

"The train Xtrucbidule9 flights from there will go."

-Finally!
-Bon, bin, good luck for your car. Finally, good luck what.
Yes, finally, dinner with his mother, you know, it requires neither the courage nor the opportunity ... Just an ability to escape, at table, while it myself tell her oven runs rough and the world wrong.

I'm already almost lift it while he told me, why I do not answer him he has no right to speak "ability to escape." Oh no. It simply prohibits it. It would be like a racist who would claim the last degree of tolerance. His ability to escape, he had only himself to exercise there, the train, because it is sorely lacking flexibility. And it is at least as rigid as his mother, if it is, it takes time to do that would criticize the dirt of a railway station where he was forced to park until the train departed. But that does not spend his time to call it spins faster. Time.

I almost rise while he told me that.
I picked up in my seat, my body already cold. I was eager to see a pole, two poles, three poles, a cow, a post, scroll 3 cows. Whatever speed. I wanted it to scroll. I was sad for the guy who had failed to return to my list of "elegant men gratuitement». Failli, c’est le cas de le dire.
On ne pourra jamais trouver une once d’élégance chez un homme pressé de s’ennuyer et incapable de profiter du répit que lui offre la croisière de l’un à l’autre.

http://www.deezer.com/listen-7005970

On devrait tous passer notre vie en transit. Et ne pas le savoir, être convaincus qu’une gare nous attend, sinon, pourquoi cette valise et ces souvenirs achetés pour la famille? Il faudrait qu’on ne se rende pas compte que ça dure toujours. Il faudrait que ça dure toujours.


-maispastrop-