When I fall
Will you be the one that picks me up
And if it happens again
Are you the one to tell me what I’m doing wrong
Even if I’m incapable of learning
Or ignorant and angry because of my own mistakes
Will you help me on my feet over and over again
Or do I look up one day and see you standing there
With all the others laughing at my autistic awkwardness
Still not understanding how my brain works
On a perfect early Sunday evening where earlier my family was gathered in the house for a meal now scattered over four floors and Doris Day is singing with the most wonderful angelic voice ever heard on earth in perfect German Schön ist die Welt I am now sinking back in my armchair to reminisce about that same feeling years ago in another time and place so far away and yet I am in another castle of my own but for me it doesn’t matter as I am perfectly content and the world is in fact a beautiful place and I can close my eyes.
The rise and fall of happiness
Where friendships were for life
Our evenings long and love was deep
Now flames have taken it away from us
Nobody knew what it meant to me
And how much it meant to you
The rise and fall of happiness
He didn’t understand the outside world
What was in fact the world outside his head
As if he knew what “You’re an autist” meant
He just liked to put things in straight lines
Like his toy cars on a Sunday afternoon
They never asked him why he liked it so much
And they never ever understood his game
No! No! No! Not there! That car is a Sedan!
Many years ago I lived in England for a few years, I am sure I have told you all about it on many occasions. Even though I love my life in Swampyland, the love of my life my wife, and my four children and all the friends I have here, I do long to be there at times.
I think it has to do with all these great memories I have of those good time I had as a young man, being in England, having friends around me there (just as I have them around me here nowadays) and not in the least the British food. Yes, there are times I wish I could just pop over for a pint or a proper English meal.
Christmas in our house is and has always been a tradition of being together remembering the birth of Christ, going to church for Carols, reading about His birth in the Holy Bible, a Christmas Tree and and yes, an abundance of food too.
And after years without them another family tradition is back: playing Christmas records on the old record player which is fully restore now. We don’t question all these things, they are there and we all accept that it is like that and we like it that way.
Yes I know, I am not a keen sharer of petitions because I have the feeling it never helps and I must admit, even this one will probably be of little interest to you but today I must act. I urge you to sign a petition. I just did, wholeheartedly. You see, I am what they call an anglophile, I love England.
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