ONE SHOTS

EROS

I TRIED TO PAINT MY PORTRAIT BUT ENDED UP WITH HIS PORTRAIT
09-19-2020

Guilt is a feeling on which you know that you have done something wrong and you feel bad about it. Guilty is what you are when you express the guilt you felt. By means of taking responsibility that you have done something wrong, you are guilty.

There are a lot of ways to show that you are guilty; by means of evidences, exposure of lies and witnesses, you may be convicted guilty. If by emotional responses we base, it may also be considered. Naturally, we react accordingly to what we're being accused to. But in summary, what I'm trying to point out is that, by actions we always express how guilty we are.

As for me, I express through art. Arts for me is my own way of communication since I don't speak a lot because I'm easily out of words and I start stammering whenever I talk with someone. I am often entitled as a wallflower by my classmates since I don't have any friends and I don't usually talk to them and if they try to, they usually shove themselves away from me when I start stammering. In short, I am bad at communicating and keeping conversations up. Hence, I was only ten when I was diagnosed that I have autism spectrum disorder.

Not being able to communicate with others through speaking does not bother me anymore the moment I turned thirteen, or at least , the moment I entered high school. What's the point of trying when you know you can't do anything about it anymore? The best way is just to accept what I am and that I am unlike the others. After all, if I am inadequate of the ability to speak, I am gifted with keen observing ability. Which is quite unusual for someone whose autistic.

As an artist, the passion and emotion is a must for me. Since art is my only way communication, I've always made sure that every person who sees my obra must feel the emotions I am trying to send to them and appreciate it. They usually stay silent when they observe my obra and by keenly observing their faces, I knew that they understand what I'm trying to send to them. Even if they say it's bad and awfully made, I knew that they don't mean it. After all, eyes don't lie and their words always contradicts their actions.

However, on every thing we do, there are pros and cons. If the pros of my ability helps me a lot, the cons of it bothers me a lot as well that sometimes I wish I never had this ability. My sympathy is just too strong that I feel my conscience taking over me and I often think how selfish I am to make a piece that hurts people when in fact I'm trying to make something that will make them happy. I really don't understand the humans sometimes even though I am human myself. Because even though they knew what is obvious, they still tend to ask.

But even though I am autistic, I still can't help but wonder why there are people who are willing to talk to me despite my condition. Like these group of guys here who're once my blockmates when I was at my second year. However, it is always him who is consistent on asking me to hang out with them.

"Are you staying late again? Mind if I accompany you?" said a low baritone voice and I only nodded as a response. Even if I say no, he'll always take that as a yes and insist on staying. I took a glance at him when I heard the dragging of the chair as he sat in front of me next to my canvas. I noticed that he was quite pale and his droopy eyes stared  lazily but with a hint of glee at me as his uneven breathing explains everything that he seemed tired.

"Yes I am tired and I am sleepy. So you better hurry up so that I can walk you home already." I slightly furrowed my eyebrows as I averted my gaze at him and continued to paint. No matter how I deny it, I often seem to hate that we are quite similar to each other.

We first met at an art exhibit at our school and I was quite surprised since no one interpreted my artwork on a different perspective since everybody always see it the way it was painted. After that, he and his friends began latching onto me and kept pestering me everyday, though I really don't mind...however, my blockmates DO mind.