Advertising To the Air -- On Not Knowing Why

(Inspired background music: Suikoden V Soundtrack -- The Fated Showdown)

(2023 Note: Now that I compared myself to other autists, I've realized I have Asperger's Syndrome, which can be considered part of ASD, or the Autism Spectrum Disorders. I, however, am no longer sure if I am indeed an autist, even though I was diagnosed. Please, take this article with a grain of salt, as I expect you to do, with any of my articles).

I am too exhausted to talk in paragraphs, even though I just woke up. Please humor me for this session:

I wish to know what the world thinks of me, after years of service.

However, even when I write 10–20 articles a month, I am sometimes surrounded by silence.

It is not something that is exclusive to this project.

People like to ignore my existence, and my autism prevents me from knowing why.

What is wrong with me?

A person I knew for more than a decade told me once that she wanted me to leave her alone.

I asked her why.

Silence, followed by blocking.

I wrote to the cursed Chen once, but she was confident that, I can understand her without her telling me stuff.

I cannot. I am limited by autism. I don't know what she meant by that.

I had a great friend once, but suddenly she didn't reply to me anymore.

I don't know why.

I am tired to be surrounded by my own lack of knowledge.

However, when I try to know, people often attempt to hurt me mentally, because of my desire for knowledge,

All because I too want to contribute, when I want to be a content creator as well.

So what if I can't research due to disabilities? You have access to the same sources that I have.

So what if I am autistic? People are smart enough to be capable to figure out that not all autistic people are stuck in hostels, in pure isolation, from the world,

Or that all autistic are mentally retarded.

When Socrates says that he knows nothing, that, in a way, inspired me. Inspired me because, I am too an ignorant man; that I too, want to exit Plato's cave allegory,

Into the light of enlightenment.

Otherwise, I wouldn't inquire, and I wouldn't philosophize.

I don't want my disabilities to get in my way for knowledge.

And when I want to contribute too,

People told me to go home and be quiet,

That they would punch my articles if they were people.

I don't know why.

Innocence is a severe problem,

And innocence is a problem that I wish to purify from within me.

I am tired of being in a state of permanent uncertainty, when people have the ability to be nice and respectful.

The only reason I disabled comments on Quora was because I was harassed,

For wanting to contribute.

I don't think my desire to contribute is a sin, something to be ashamed of.

After all, it prevents me from committing suicide,

When I can no longer work, read, or study,

Due to a fatigue that is capable of paralyzing me.

I don't want my existence to be unnecessary, irrelevant.

Thus, the best course of action,

Is a metaphorical attempt at world dominance;

To strive to be truly dominant,

in the minds and hearts of people throughout the world.

That is the best way I can know,

To ensure the external functionality of my existence,

One that is desired, that goes beyond the basic love

Of local family.

I do not know why people detest me,

Why they deem me either pretentious or arrogant;

In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I might discover,

That I am an autistic savant, AKA, "idiot savant,"

As it was formerly called.

Hundreds of articles,

Lie in silence;

Thousands of multi-platform shares,

Are advertised on the air,

And to those I deem,

My greatest readers thus far --

Those who don't talk to me.

I don't care if I'm autistic, if my words make the world sadder, or angrier.

I just want to exist,

Beyond the echo chamber of my thoughts.

Is it necessary to hurt someone both mentally and, thus, physically (yes)?

When things could be said nicely,

Without the necessity, of the intent of harm?

Of harm that actually succeeds, beyond one's awareness?

I guess I'm just too naïve.

The attempt to philosophize is merely an escape -- from myself, from my cage;

From these walls, from my mind.

I don't see why I should be punished for it;

Hence, I don't see why I should commit suicide.

Thus, even if I remain in deep silence,

To the point of failing, and remaining in utter ignorance,

I will continue to write until death separates me.

From a world that generally fails,

To see my true intentions;

Intentions so pure, intentions so harmless,

To anyone whatsoever.

I am not fragile!

I am, simply, extremely explosive.

This is why I lock myself in solitude, part willingly, part unwillingly.

As I try to get a grip,

On some serenity.