Tick

“Does a JERK Jerk?” Addison, a friend of mine who I met working alongside him in a Best (Vest) Buy is also Autistic. He has a natural twitch that occurs every once in a while that he has no control over. When I worked retail I got many of these wonderful situations as you have seen in many of my comics, but this is one of his most recent ones and a new one on me. So I felt like sharing. Get yur'self Fixed Addison! You’re making ignorant people uncomfortable.

ENTP and INTP convo
  • ENTP: I really feel like annoying you. I don't know why!!!
  • INTP: *Glare* Fuck off
  • ENTP: *Pokes INTP repeatedly*, *tries to annoy INTP in every single way they could*
  • INTP: Fuck off
  • ENTP: *Tries to take one of INTP's fries.*
  • INTP: ...
  • INTP: THIS IS WHERE WE DRAW THE LINE DUDE. I SERIOUSLY CAN'T BELIEVE U TRIED DOING THAT. U R DISOWNED.
Tick

How do you tell someone you love them?
Or that you’re in love with them?
What if they love someone else?
What if you know they don’t love you too?

Memories of these feelings crawl up my arms
Burn my fingers and salt my eyes
Boiling tears drag my hopes down onto my sheets
The stains are a little reminder of the pain

Do you take the chances?
Do you put yourself out there?
Do you open yourself up for further injury?
Or do you keep yourself closed and alone?

These questions keep me awake
When the clock ticks away
My thoughts cease to buzz
Rather they go faster as the hours build

So, dearest night-owl,
If I were to tell you I love you,
Correction, in love with you,
Would the tears cease to boil?

A poem

Today I heard the clock ticking.

It’s been awhile since the lighting,
The sound, the air and the feeling
Broke through, lastly, the barricade,
Broke through the patched doorway.

Cold room, closing walls, a painting
Blinding brightness of the screen, laying,
While the colorful instruments
Might get grayer, whiter,
Only the sepia of cozy all-nighters.

In this place a prisoned mind,
Dazing with the past mémoire.
Closing off the stimulus side,
Losing concept to ideal.

The clock stopped ticking for awhile,
Sounds cannot break some self-made lies.
What’s this strange noise then, now?
Myself’s lost, or addiction strikes.

“Am I still here? But here is where?”
This is my only thought,
Which can somewhat make sense,
I’m loosing it again.

“Tick”,
Please,
Leave me,
Give me some peace.

It’s getting loud with every strike.
Is someone playing with life and time?
She’s long gone and I’m still here, why?
She’s the one who lurks my nights.

Time to time I wonder,
What might lies beyond the thunder,
Grassfields with sunbathing corns,
Grassfields with tons of tombstones.

But in my lightless room,
Even the thunder cease to fool.
Nothing should exist here right now,
Nothing could break through the ground.

Today I heard the clock ticking,
Maybe I should step out, breathing,
While accepting the fact, the truth
That the road goes on,
It cannot be fooled.