Don't do it. Seriously, it's completely bogus. Life is made up of a series of interconnected, random events of chaos and order, ordained over by Fate, or Destiny, or God or whatever, so what say do we have? I didn't plan on buying a new phone this week, but I still have to buy one. We cannot possibly factor every hypothetical into our lives, so why bother? Is it not easier simply to let life take it's course, hanging on for dear life and occasionally screaming "stop the world, I want to get off?" Sure, plan your career, budget your money, but don't look so surprised when everyone else isn't willing to live by your preordained plan.
Surely there's a simple option I'm missing, you must be thinking. Have a Plan B, or a Plan C even. And when they fail? If I so chose, my head can come up with a plan, then generate about twenty contingencies for every hypothetical it could come up with. But I've wasted the time planning when I could have been doing and chances are the opportunity has already passed me by. It is in the nature of the Aspergic, as with any person I'm sure, to fear the unknown, to fear change. We fear what we can't control, what we can't define and fit into our little boxes and labels we've created for the world. Work is good, learning is good, sex is fun but too much is bad. Or is that chocolate? We divide and justify and collect everything into it's right place, until something knew comes along and messes up the whole system. It's why people like me don't fit in. We're not easily categorized. We can't be summed up or explained. We're liquid, shifting constantly from one state to the next, desperately trying to fit in and instead making ourselves more of an outcast with each moment. We are like the future, we are the unknown and so we are feared. And so I have come to treat the future as I do any new thing, with a bizarre mix of fear and respect. I have broken out of the vicious cycle of fretting endlessly over every decision until it resolves itself, vanishes or someone else makes it. Instead, I jump head first in, screaming like a girl and hoping the jump isn't as far as it looks. Then I agonize endlessly over it. It's yet to backfire on me, it has lead to many changes in my life this year. A new house, a new job, an old friend. It's hardly a cure, I'm simply ignoring my feelings and avoiding the issue as always, but in a slightly (I hope) more healthy way this time.
Now when I explode, would someone kindly bundle up what you can of me in a container and then cremate me inside a gorgeous grand piano? If that's not all too much to ask. Sayonara, readers. Until next time, consider yourself Aspergified.
This one is my favourite so far.
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