neopolitan

i don't want to get out of bed. Nothing's wrong exactly, but ain't nothing right either. i don't want to be this person today. i want to wake up in a different body, or at least better clothes. i don't have anything to wear. never nothing to wear except rubber band bracelets. I think about good intentions, about living in the moment, but instead I keep wallowing in old memories. I know I'll feel better once I get up, but still that's not enough motivation. When I finally get on the street after three hours of moving towards presentable, that's when I feel good, feel alive, feel okay. It's just walking. Walking to the station, waiting, sitting, riding. These things I can do.
Rahim tells me I'm autistic, but he's an arrogant a-hole from hell. He's all cheerful about it. It's a good thing, you can get help, there's drugs you can take. He not serious, but he is serious about me taking drugs to be normal. To rise to his level of normalcy. I'm socially retarded, but not autistic, there's a difference. He thinks he's got me all figured out. Why? Because he went to Davis and before that Berkeley and now he's a lawyer so he should be able to figure me out. But now I'm thinking maybe I am somewhere in the austism spectrum. Asperger's syndrome, anyone? I read an article about in the newspaper and convince myself that I have it even though the paper doesn't really list the symptoms but apparently a lot people have it. I rush to the library and look for books about autism and then I feel silly and I know I don't have it. I'm just broken. Are there any drugs for that?