Special

Hello.

I have a question for you.

Do I seem special?

Or do I seem normal?
Am I up-to-date with your societal norms of communication and behavior?

Big words, little talking. 

Little words, big talking. 

Nobody notices until things are taken to the extreme

Unless they are smart

Or conspiracists. 

My question remains.

Do I seem regular?

To most, I do.

One must know me to sense my difference.

Hundreds upon thousands of people would refer to me as a mistake 

If I dared tell them the nature of my life.

I seem normal, though,

So they speak as if I do not apply,

As if I am one of them,

For I am not an extreme.

Am I a product of failed parenting?

Heavy metals?

Vaccines?

A lack of nutrients?

Am I intoxicated with propaganda and unclean foods?

Is something wrong with me, then?

Because you said I am normal

You did not think I was a ruined child when you met my smile and charm and heard of my loving family and health and academic status.

You did not believe I was the product of intentional government sabotage when you met me. You believed I was a bright young individual with a bright fresh future

And just because

I am not overtly different.

I know I am special.

I know I am gifted.

I am not a mistake. 

Believe what you will, that vaccines gave me it, or that you must cure me.

But I am not sick.

I am special.

I am autistic.

I am proud.