Evadarea din virtual


Rareori mi se întâmplă să închid laptopul de dimineață și să-mi petrec restul zile printre oameni reali, cărora le pot strânge mâna și îi pot privi în ochi. Ieri a fost una din acele zile, datorită Sărbătorii Naționale a României și a invitației lansate de primăria Seini pentru o nouă întrecere între șahiștii din localitate. Concursul s-a desfășurat și de această dată în incinta restaurantului Chili, redeschis de luni, după o renovare amplă care a adăugat noblețe și modernism localului din centrul orașului.

Dar nu numai straiele noi ale restaurantului ne-au surprins, ci și o nouă și tânără șahistă, de numai opt ani, care a venit alături de tatăl și unchiul ei și a jucat de la egal la egal cu veteranii Seiniului. Am aflat că se numește Alexia și este campioană județeana la categoria ei de vârstă. Chiar dacă nu s-a clasat printre finaliști, totuși și-a învins tatăl și…

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You’re Never Enough For Me


Musings Of An Autistic Mind

I love you

Resting in my heart

You’ve tied my hands around your face

And left me speechless

In the wake of my doubt and distraction

Opening my love to others

And my voice to you

Spinning in endless circles with you

I’ve found a place I can call home

I found people I can friends

Safety for a lost soul

Comfort in the trust of one another

We do not share blood

Or maybe we do

I don’t know if I’d be here without you

I’m smiling to hold back the tears

We departing

But never gone

Never forgotten

This lasting resonance inside of me

Never enough

To simply say goodbye

I say until next time

Because I’m sure we’ll meet again

But if not

Because I cannot predict time or fate

Then thank you for your kindness

And courage

To accept me into your circle

Now I must…

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Nobody’s Choice But Mine


Musings Of An Autistic Mind

I’m not anyone’s first choice

I’m not anyone’s favorite

They can tell me how much I matter

But in the end, there’s always someone better

I can send money, heartfelt messages

Rent vehicles and see you in different states

But there’s someone who matters more

I’m the fool who’s standing in a closed door

Today feels so cold, feelings don’t die

I’m just dead eyes to the passersby

Sickly sadness amputates any reason

Words say love but are trademark treason

Nothing more than a phase, a one night stand

Gave my heart and got the veins handed back

Caught in a bout of serious reflection

Does my life need a finite correction

The blade is easy, and the stripes are bright

Please let me go into the light

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Autistic Trips Vol.1


Musings Of An Autistic Mind

Since my job closed and Baltimore has shut down more and more businesses and functions since the rise of the COVID-19 virus, home life for me has been very slow, very quiet. Despite the sadness, confusion, and uncertainty in these troubled times, it has offered me much room for reflection and introspection. One thing that I’ve often ignored in recent years, despite the obvious awareness of its symptoms and effects on me, is my Aspergers. I’ve recently noticed some struggles that I thought I’d overcome have returned, and I realized that maybe I’d ignored my condition too long. I’ve used quite a bit of ink in recent days going back and re-living some of these issues, in the hopes that maybe I’ll dig up some newfound knowledge and maybe even kindle a new hope in turning another corner in my life.

let’s take a trip down memory lane

back before…

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SOUNDING like cannibalism,

Railroads make the decision…

Keep or scrap

Or re-adapt,

Sometimes by commission!

In modeling we do it too,

Being careful which cars we cut through…

adding weight

So they’ll run right,

It’s something one has to do!

Bagging the car body shells,

The ones too light to run well…

Some cut apart

Totally from the start,

Rarely—but I will!

Knuckle couplers transferred,

To another railcar as preferred…

Only a few

Are scrapped for this too,

Really—I give you my word!

Depending on your preferred situation,

Car scrapping requires consideration…

Is it too old

Or could be sold,

If new and burned in conflagration?

Model trains rarely are burned,

Fumes from burning plastic are better spurned…

Depending upon cost

They rarely are tossed,

But some parts are saved, not urned.

Jonathan Caswell

BELOW—some real rail cars being cut up OR adapted for a new use !

April—2 The Poor Man’s Evening Portion — Truth2Freedom’s Blog

I pray thee let me go over, and see the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon.—Deut. 3:25. What a very lovely and interesting view doth this sweet scripture afford of Moses, the man of God! Look at him, my soul, as the Holy Ghost hath here represented him, and pray […]

April—2 The Poor Man’s Evening Portion — Truth2Freedom’s Blog