So, if you’ve read my previous blog post, you’ll know that I am eternally indebted to The Beatles, beyond any measure of feigned sincerity. They gave me a figurative roof over my head and room and board, beyond any artist, entertainer, or con-man out there. It was primarily The Beatles that led me to what I could do with my time, besides my original goal, designing video games
What The Beatles did for me was to imagine (no pun intended) what it would be like if I tried to form a band addressing the same principles that The Beatles had, or at least tried to uphold. It was then, in the 10th grade, when I started pursuing the idea of writing song lyrics for my presumed future band. It was a way out for me, a way to express my thoughts and feelings, when I would feel uncomfortable, or awkward, doing it any other way.
During that year, I had highly depressive behavior because of all kinds of circumstances, and I felt like everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was betraying me bit by bit until I could find no sanctuary to hide from my loneliness and anger. Through music and my lyrical muse, I spent a good amount of time working on trying to pre-suppose a new identity for myself that would try to live through the pain.
This band, BTW, would never happen. I eventually learned that I had a very limited voice, even though it is low baritone, and I wasn’t able to retain any instrumentation lessons, nor could I be able to even play a guitar, but I still kept on writing throughout. I would write about loneliness, about conflicts in my life, sometimes politics, commercial relationship kind of numbers, holiday-based ones too. While I really felt like I was going nowhere, what I was writing made me think that I could be going somewhere.
But I never wrote about my impressions of having Asperger’s.
In 2007, my father started singing with a cover band, and by the turn of the decade, they actually had a regular gig. When the owner of an Italian restaurant invited the band to play at a benefit for Autism Speaks. The hostess of the event, a news reporter, learned that I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome and I was invited to write and possibly recite a poem about my impressions of Asperger’s at the event. So, I wrote what would become “Misunderstood”. Unfortunately, I didn’t recite it at the event, but it became the first poem on the website of Tony Attwood, a famous Asperger’s expert, which I will always treasure. I’ve gotten a good amount of positive feedback on that poem. It is always good to have a well-liked debut, especially since I’ve written much more about my mental quirks, and more Asperger’s impressions, lately, which really do help as a way to convey what one really feels.
Will I ever join them? Who knows?