Like you’re an alien.
Like the lights are too bright.
Like the sirens are too loud.
Like the shirt is too scratchy.
Like you’re in a play where everyone else has the script but you don’t.
Like people are telling you things with their eyes, but you can’t quite figure out what it is.
Like people imposing limitations on what you can do, and you having to fight for these limitations to be lifted.
Like you’re a failure for not having a superpower, being a savant, a maths whizz.
Like being fabulously obsessed, with music, art, film, whatever.
Like forgetting faces but remembering names.
Like you’re alone.