I went through a terrible “Re-entry Day” yesterday. After 1 and 1/2 years of travelling (if you count the months I camped in Ojai: three or four last summer and two last spring), I am re-entering sedentary society.
I have experienced this Day-Of-Illness before when I’ve been re-entering sedentary society. I get very sick: nausea, vertigo… It’s as if my mind has to readjust to all the different ways of thinking (and feeling) when I am going from travelling to being settled down. It doesn’t happen when I go from being settled to travelling.
At Aspie Ian Ford’s house in Albuquerque. It’ s really nice, as with Xenia in Denver, being with another Aspie.
Funny guy at Santa Fe train station office: “Can I do anything else to destroy your life?”
Nate, my CS host, told me that in northern New Mexico there are whole families who do heroin together.
Raphael (from Ecuador) in Santa Fe weaving store: he said I’m smart to take government money to live on.
There’s a Native American school in Santa Fe that used to be one of those horrible places that taught students to give up their NA culture. Now, this same place is a school that teaches Native American culture.
At Ian’s; taking bus to NOLA today. It has been a truly transformative experience to be here at Ian’s and hear his thoughts on autism and read his book and be with his family.
James Taylor song talks about true love: they were “glued together, body and soul.”
People hurt others for what SOMEONE ELSE (usually parents) did to them, not because of what these others did to them.
Eating breakfast at IHOP in Texarkana, Arkansas.
Black bus driver took over in Amarillo, and he said to us, “Y’all relax.”
One poor gal was broke, tired and hungry at the Amarillo bus station after being on the bus for “a long time.” They gave her a food voucher for the restaurant in the terminal.
My backpack went on without me. It was under the bus, and we parted ways in Fort Smith, Ark. I have everything I need with me, just my tent is in the pack. The driver said the pack will show up in New Orleans.
Most people don’t realize this but I am a radical. I am not in the least political, so I don’t DO anything radical in that arena. But personally, concerning issues like feminism/women’s rights and Asperger Syndrome and the environment (Sentient Beings), I am totally radical in my opinions/feelings.
I get positive feedback here in Louisiana: “I love people like you,” said the guy serving me chicken in the Greyhound restaurant in S. I was dancing to my iPod while waiting in line. He said I was patient, plus I gave him a tip.
Subcultures like Blacks rely on a high degree of social cohesiveness at the expense of individuality, authenticity, intellectual development, diversity, independence, personal (relating to the self) sensitivity, and so on.
People who don’t hitchhike always seem to think that their town is very friendly and that lots of their locals pick up hitchhikers. In my experience, this is NEVER true. Very few individuals anywhere pick up hitchers. I see the real town; the locals I talk to see their idealized version of their town.
Time alone, like on a long bus trip like this one, gives me respite from other people and from my own weirdnesses (like my projections). I think a lot of my feelings about who others are are just projections of my own feelings. I am susceptible to doing this especially at low times, like when I am tired.
I separate my interpersonal difficulties from the rest of my life. In this way, I manage to have a lot of pleasure.
As Ian Ford told me, it’s hard to get Aspies (and all autistics) to come to a group because we “hide.” I definitely do this. Part of my hiding takes the form of disguise (eg. pretending I’m an NT) and part of it takes the form of misdirection (look over there! [ha ha]).
I am polite, and I pretend to be submissive (as do most Aspies). NTs seem to conduct psychic, inner, mental “conversations” (through body language, etc. AND thoughts?) with others around them. I NEVER do this; I hate it. It’s disturbing, scary, and I don’t understand it. On top of all that, I am often misunderstood and people seem to think I am doing this weird communication thing. This pisses me off, and it upsets me. That really makes me hide.
My hiding often takes a definite physical form. For example, many times I have literally sat for hours with my head turned away from the person whom I perceive (rightly or wrongly [projection?]) to be doing this strange, unfathomable, NT communication style. It’s very uncomfortable but vastly superior to having any interaction with the person-in-question.
I hide so as not to be involved in social interactions that I neither understand nor want to understand or participate in.
I know who I am, and I know what my inner world is about. I want to live in MY inner world, not in someone else’s and certainly not in a group’s conceptual world.
Secret worlds I have penetrated (even a little):
Mysticism/other worlds/alternate realities
Ian said he used to be submissive. Now he tells people what he wants. I am becoming that way, too. He inspires me. Ian said he didn’t used to know how to end conversations with NTs. Now he says some nice words, like “Great talking with you.” They get this.
I would like to have Cesaria Evora (Cape Verde Islands singer, deceased) as a mentor. Can you have a dead person as a mentor? She really inspires me. I like how she always had open house and people could just drop in.
I can tell people I am “quirky” (again, Ian’s words) if I have some odd thing come up with them and I don’t want to get into the whole Asperger thing.
Bottom line–my new mantra: “I love myself!”
To others: Let me BE ME.
God, I am tired of travelling. And so sick of hitchhiking. That was a long trip: Seattle to Albuquerque.
As they say in the bluegrass song, Cripple Creek: “This livin’ on the road is gettin’ really old.” Man, is that ever true for me.
I haven’t really settled down since 1974 when I left Hank. It’s all been about moving. In the last 5-7 years, it’s been about real travelling: pretty constant and international.