Dear Future Historian,
Today I was informed indirectly, by her psychologist, that I don't exist cause she's not crazy enough! I believe the way it was phrased was: It’s time you admit the fact that even you know that she does not exist… because you aren’t schizophrenic; you're just autistic with big imagination.
Before my late diagnosis in the autism spectrum, I had no idea about my sensory issues. And no amount of observational skills could help me realise my sensory sensitivity with only myself as a reference.
Maybe I'm just too cynical for rhyme.
It's a cynical aeon anyway.
So, I am not
even special that way.
Oh, look at that, a random rhyme. You see?
