This is a poem I wrote for my other site patricesaucierauteur.wordpress.com

Someone’s tired here. Someone’s trying to get up and leave the house for his evening swim at the town’s pool. Someone’s trying to cook a hot meal for the whole family with nothing but narrow pieces of meat, some pepper and a few tomatoes. Someone’s getting the idea this school year’s gonna be a though one. Someone’s flirting with a cruel and egoist idea of… well… whatever… Someone’s tired. That’s all.

Everybody’s tired. But not like in my home.

Homeworks. Deadlines. Pop quizzes. Exams. Grades. Homeworks. Deadlines. Pop Quizzes. Exams. Grades. More and more. More things to learn. More things to master. More skills. Get them now. You gotta pass or else you’re out.

No 3 strikes rule. You flunk, you’re out. We did everything to keep you afloat. Unfortunately your incapacities were too heavy for us. Please do try to understand as we must keep our good standing in the top 100 best schools.

Autism. He is autistic. He thinks differently. Behaves differently. Noticing things others wouldn’t care about and talk about them for hours.

He’s constantly looking at his watch. What time is it? Time to do your homeworks. You have a lot of homeworks. You gotta prove yourself. You gotta get sicker to show you’re worth the private school your parents pay you every damned year.

He knows how to learn stuff but in his own way which isn’t the good way according to the normal and ordinary people ruling his life.

I think he walks through this life like a Pixies song playing in a local radio station. My head is spinning as fast as his except that I noticed it and I can’t stop it. Fear is everywhere. Fear of failing. Fear of falling through the system without any chance of salvation.

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