twisted beautiful things

viii. dream

'every sway just breaks me a little

and i know you can't take this back and forth

it's not really safe for you in the m i d d l  e

when you close that door, you'll see

it's unhinged, it's just like me'

(nick jonas).

viii. unhinged

>>

novella

The library is arguably the best part of campus.

The main room is a vast, open space with tan flooring and mural paintings on the ceiling. There are rows and rows of bookshelves, occasionally marked by a marble statue. The columns hold up the second floor and the third floor-if one were to stand in the middle of the space and look up, they could see people browsing through the endless shelves of books.

I'm sitting in the loft on the third floor, my books and laptop spread out on thick red blankets. I've got my coffee with me and a small yogurt.

The benefit of being good friends with the librarian is being able to eat food in the library when I want to, so I don't even have to hide it if she was here.

Really I don't have much schoolwork to do. I have a few assignments already, things I can't do until we've actually had the lesson. But my ritual is to go through the books and outline all the chapters, highlight the syllabus, and write down all the due dates in my planner.

Something I could've done at home since this will only take thirty minutes and I normally come here for hours, but I missed this little loft too much to not come here when I had the chance.

It's only six pm, the sky outside an orange-pink glow through the window, casting strange shadows on the walls. My friends had invited me to hang out, but I politely declined. I have a headache-a small one, but I have learned the hard way not to push myself when I get the tiniest of ache in my head.

Ever since I was little I had these headaches that would come along after a stressful event; it didn't necessarily have to be something negative, it could be something exciting, like a day at an amusement park. On days I get headaches because of that kind of positive stress, I don't even feel anxious...but my body sure does. It'll let me know by giving me a splitting headache or a nauseating stomach problem. A small part of me feels like it could be the Aspberger's.

I'm not diagnosed, but...

I know it's a delicate subject. But the truth is that I have always wondered if I were somewhere on the spectrum. The headaches that result from overstimulation could be a component of the condition.

Last year, when I was taking my psychology course, we had a unit on Autism. I remember reading about and thinking, "oh shit, that's me."

When I was younger, I used to flap my hands when I got excited about something, and I'd walk on my tiptoes. I had this lack of self awareness, oblivious to obvious things in and around me. Then there were the things I would say that would come off rude without me meaning them too. I also had some major anger issues and I didn't understand that the world didn't revolve around me.

Showering was hard, washing my face was hard, moving my body was hard.

I worked really hard to get where I'm at.