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This is a blog about a father's attempts to be useful to his thirteen-year-old son who has an autism diagnosis. - Siamo tutti autisti
"While I was sitting one night with a poet friend watching a great opera performed in a tent under arc lights, the poet took my arm and pointed silently. Far up, blundering out of the night, a huge Cecropia moth swept past from light to light over the posturings of the actors. “He doesn’t know,” my friend whispered excitedly. “He’s passing through an alien universe brightly lit but invisible to him. He’s in another play; he doesn’t see us. He doesn’t know. Maybe it’s happening right now to us.”
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2 comments:
Lucky, lucky, lucky you [both]. I think I know exactly how you feel = like having a party in the middle of the night on your own whilst he's asleep with a huge cheesy grin on your face that won't fade even though it's hurting by now.
Best wishes
Precisely!
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