Understanding the rythmn within and around you – Part 2

A wheelbound cripple can take sweet comfort in all sorts of intricately crafted lies to explain why legs aren’t necessary. He could for example convince himself wheels are far more kinetically efficient than proceeding by walking. He might even tell himself his lowered vantage from his sitting position offers the best possible view of a woman’s arse without running the risk of being called out as a closet pervert. But all these intricate lies dissolve before a flight of steps. Here the truth has a reality that can never be negotiated away and this was where I found myself one day at my first day at work. I was that crippled man who had made every effort to fit into your world. I made an effort to nod, smile along with curb my proclivity for staring at others too long….I studied these gestures at least a hundred million times and much more in the hope of finding the grove of the rythmn of your world. I dressed well, took care in the way I addressed others and made it a point never to over stretch myself in every aspect of my deportment. No one could tell I was damaged goods. I had even taken the effort to remain silent in meetings when I realised the proposal would go pear shaped. Instead I receeded into this rythmn deep within my the inner world. I was good in my work. By the end of the year my bosses had even toyed with the idea of slotting me for a senior management post. I had taken great care not to be too good by even incorporating mistakes and errors which I made sure was conventional. I gathered that in work life, one is permitted and even ecourgaed to fail providing one does so conventionally, but to succeed unconventionally was an unforgivable sin and I was careful never to over step that mythical mark. By the second year. I had taken over every aspect of my bosses duties….including planning. I was the youngest executive to be allocated a room with a big tit secretary who had a perculiar habit of leaning over my desk to reveal nature’s bloom whenever she handed me documents. I knew this to be a trap, but nonetheless played along by allowing and even encouraging her indulgence. I even supplied the necessary raw material to fuel the office water cooler gossip mill to believe I was having an illicit affair with her by buying her expensive gifts whenever I returned from my overseas business trips. It was a carefully crafted lie designed solely to hide my autism by projecting an image of carnal normality that would have been expected from any healthy young man when presented with such a delightful cake….you see I saw it all as a game of chess. A failing common to the novice is for white to force the opponent to start the game by assembling a Sicilian Defense….here the novice takes strength from the idea that the game can only proceed normally albeit at a dynamic pace. And this was exactly what everyone in your world expected from me. The sting comes when the master suddenly and unexpectedly sacrifices key offensive pieces such as the rook or bishop. Only this has to be accomplished under the guise of an error of judgement. The key here is not to be too perfect, but to incorporate just the right quantity of human failings. When this is done, the novice becomes embolden and proceeds to attack in earnest while exposing the flanks. This is the beginning of the end. Thereafter the master proceeds to unmask his real intentions and attacks the King from the flank and since there are no defences positioned there thru a series of mind boggling strikes to his undefended rear. The end can only come suddenly and unexpectedly. My point is providing I take great care and effort to mimic the rythmn of your world….no one expects me to have my own rhythm…to paraphrase. I am just exactly like you in every sense of the word….the moral in this experiment that I once conducted is this – we only see what we expect to see, not what is really there….and this wasthe magic trick that made my autism disappear completely from your world.

By the end of the year. I had taken over my boss job with the blessing of the entire board. He had absolutely no idea, not even a morsel as to how it had even come to such an end. I wished I could confess to you that I relished the moment. But all I felt was the salutary nothingness of being in the rythmn as I had in all my chess tournaments….it pulsed rhythmically and louder thru the emptiness of the enveloping darkness that I can only call freedom.