On a Violet Day

Violette Pom Poms

It might have been the raspberries, or maybe I just wasn’t paying attention but today was a combination of hopeful eccentricity under the mask of well practiced learned compliance.
I am an autistic woman. And before anyone goes ‘Oh shit! I was tricked into this because I thought it had something to do with puddings.’ Stop. Breathe deep. It has everything to do with puddings. Or pet cats. Or existential angst at 3am. Or cheese. Quite alot is to do with cheese. But mostly…
Well, that is where the similiarity stops. There isn’t a mostly something, because being this way is like seeing everything on the menu at once; and it is still written in Russian. It is also like waking up, thinking it’s thursday, then believing it is actually monday, then realising it IS thursday, but it is five in the morning… Disorientating.
So you see, there might be…

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