I recently created a wall tree in my room where I can scribble thoughts for the day.  I am on a new adventure as I impatiently wait for my entry to Canada.  Being able to live in slight discomfort means I grow just a little bit each day.  I like it.

A few friends asked me to share what is written on my tree after I posted a picture of it on social media.  I was uncertain if I wanted to reveal these .  After-all, none of this was prepared with another reader in mind, it was just for me.  Then I thought maybe I want to share this raw side of me.  Opening up yet another window into the mind of an autistic person, especially during Autism Awareness Month.  Un-caged thoughts presented without alteration, but to remain unexplained so don’t ask.  If it doesn’t make sense to you when you read it, it isn’t meant for you to understand.

So here it is.  The words on my tree.  No edits.  No explanations.  Credits given where due on quotes, but all else is my own.  Not in chronological order.

Words of the Wall Tree

17595838_382240622161795_3070973303939137536_n(1)If only they could hear the symphony of their own.  You can’t unhear a song.  You can only forget how beautiful you were when you heard it play.

My song is in a key never heard before.  That’s why I have never written it.  I’d rather hear you sing along.

Raven tree evermore.

So keep being original.  Compose.  Sip the notes and eat the words.  The only ones who get indigestion are those who think dreams are moments born only of sleep.  Dream wide awake.  Leave worries to sleep.

Be louder than their hate by loving their song.  They don’t know it’s hidden.

Who knew compost could be interesting.

It all began with a kitchen cabinet, Ikea, a tree, and a dinner.  I knew when I heard your stories that I was to start a brand new journey.

Hockey.  Music.  Design.  Art.  Coach and teacher stopped the game and crossed the ice.  The song played on it and it was louder than the tree.  Keep singing this song even when the words get blurred out by doubt and fear because no one knows what key life is played.

Oh red pens.  For the sake of red pens.

Some, some, some, somewhere deep inside of me is an ocean.  That is where the music comes from.  All the creativity and beauty.  Few have seen it.  Some standing upon its shores not able to go in.  But somehow you have managed to dock a boat there.  Riding.  Rocking.  Change me for up and up.  She built the dock, but you brought the boat.

Who can swim this melody when the ink is still in the well?  That’s why the shadows look like they ran off of us, and follow us until we are dry like dirt again.  They can’t stay hidden inside no more than the moon can ignore the sun.

Even the damn bus has a song.

Quotes on the trunk:

“Being crazy isn’t enough.” – Dr. Seuss

“It’s a terrible thing to see and have no vision.” – Helen Keller

“Everything you can imagine is real.” – Pablo Picasso

“There is a crack in everything.  That’s how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen

“It’s not about what it is, it’s about what it can become.” – Dr. Seuss

 

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