celebrity, Vulnerable Side, Writing

The Illusion of Privacy

Disclaimer: I’m never really good at the titles. Writing the content seems to fare better for me.

It is currently 12:51 AM and I haven’t eaten lunch yet. That doesn’t seem like a dire situation (yes, I know what “dire” means), but not eating makes me more cranky and antsy. But I’ll survive. I was telling myself if I needed to keep writing in different blogs. Due to technical reasons, I actually have 4 to 5 blogs, 3 of them that I don’t use anymore. Unless you count my Wattpad account that I use to write my stories. In all fairness, I rarely do blogging these days. I used to write a lot in my high school years, but the most writing I do now is either online, or in my journals occasionally.

I constantly swing back and forth between wanting to have my writing published, but still keeping some of it private inside my own Pandora’s Box. I don’t mind discussing certain things about my life. It’s good to talk to others across the world. We live in such an intrusive society where you can hack onto an account though. Along with the fact that you never know who is typing behind a computer screen. I’m that rare exception. Anytime you see writing from my profiles, it will always be me. No one else uses my account since my privacy is respected.

I’ve had public accounts before, but not much attention. I did have 500 followers on Twitter once but that felt intense even for me. So I deactivated it, started a new one, and now only have 141 followers. Now my Twitter and Instagram are private. I still kind of get creeped out at the idea of thousands of people seeing your social media feed online. It’s understandable as a celebrity, but a regular person? No. My life isn’t even that exciting. It has its moments, but I’m a human being like everyone else. That being said, I need to stop typing because my left hand is aching a bit. Peace.

Autism, Relationships

I’m A Multi-Faceted Woman

I find that one of the many problems that people on the autism spectrum face is having confidence within their selves. I have gone through my life building my own self-esteem in order to develop thicker skin for the real world. I also work harder at becoming more assertive. Sometimes, you have to fight for what you want. But I digress. I can literally list off a multitude of my talents right here on this blog post:

  1. I have an extensive vocabulary.
  2.  I’m an aspiring polyglot. I took six years of Italian (four in high school, two in college), a semester of Spanish (also in college), have been teaching myself ASL in order to become a deaf interpreter. On top of that, on the Duolingo app , I’ve been teaching myself French, Esperanto, Portuguese, and many more. I’m unstoppable.
  3. I graduated cum laude in high school with special honors in Italian.
  4.  I’ve had my writing published on thoughtcatalog.com and in my college magazines.
  5. I graduated college with an Associate’s Degree.
  6. I’ve acted on stage before. Not in the Apollo theatre or anything like that, just local productions in my hometown.
  7. I’ve had an art piece in an exhibition.
  8. I won a spelling bee contest back in my preteen years. My mom loves that story.
  9. I won a dancing competition back in high school for doing the salsa.

I’m sure the rest of you have interesting talents. You just have to have faith in yourselves.

Autism, Life, Vulnerable Side

We Need More Disabled People to Be Mainstream in Media

Diversity and Hollywood have never been closely associated with one another. Automatically, when I Google those two words together, I see countless articles of folks who want to see their selves represented in Hollywood.  According to one article, a report entails why we need diversity more than ever. The report, “2017 Hollywood Diversity Report: Setting the Record Straight,” showed that films and television shows with casts that roughly reflect the nation’s racial and ethnic diversity posted the highest box office and ratings numbers on average. “The sociologist in me knows that minorities over-index in terms of movies and TV,” Hunt said. “People want to see their own stories so the return on investment is strong.” He pointed to the success of historical drama “Hidden Figures,” which has grossed $144 million at the domestic box office on a budget of $25 million. The report also showed people of color and women both remained significantly under-represented in 2015.

While I’m proud of the fact that Hollywood is showing more minorities in TV shows, such as Jane The Virgin, Luke Cage, Queen Sugar, Empire, and Scandal, we’re still under-represented in the LGBT+ and disabled people in our communities. I haven’t seen any other black person who’s autistic like myself. And out of those in mainstream media, the only shows I can think of that represent that are Shadowhunters, Parenthood, where one of the families has a son with Asperger’s Syndrome, and Switched at Birth, the first and rare show that shows deaf people with enriched lives. 

Movies aren’t that better either. I’ve only seen about 6 movies about people who are on the autism spectrum: My Name Is Khan, the Indian man who has Asperger’s Syndrome.  Temple Grandin, who had to deal with autism at a time when it wasn’t known by the public, Including Samuel, a documentary, Adam, another movie about an Aspie man, Dad’s In Heaven With Nixon, another documentary, and Jane Wants A Boyfriend. Jane Wants a Boyfriend focuses on a young autistic woman who is hindered by her sister’s overly protective nature.

I feel like it’s my responsibility to continue to tell autistic people’s stories, whether they’re fictional or non-fictional. I even created my alter ego, Alia Lexon, as a black, autistic female who wants to escape Operainia from people who want to cure her of her Asperger’s Syndrome.  I’ll never stop telling our stories.


Summer is Extending To October

Hey, guys. I know that I haven’t been on here in a while. I finally had my interview. It went really well. I was a little nervous, but I think I got the job. I have to remember to write a thank you letter for the interview. All in due time. The heat is still here from where I live. Even though we’re almost in October, with autumn arriving, it still feels like a late summer day. My mom called me and said that I had to be careful in our backyard due to a hornet’s next on a fence near one of the pine trees. Yay. Good thing she doesn’t know that I had to shoo away 3 stink beetles from the screen door…and counting.

The job I applied for is for a teen clerk position. I can handle it. I always have mixed feelings about spring and winter. I can enjoy sunshine for a while, but after that, it’s time for cool weather. And, being in the Northeast, I know how our winters can be. At least it’s not hot all the time as opposed to Texas and California. I appreciate the balance of seasons for that.

This will also sound paranoid, but I’ve unfollowed anything that’s controversial. I know I posted my opinions in the past, and I stand by them. But the way the world is right now, I also care about my safety. It’s crazy how we’re repeating history, but I honestly don’t want to get into that. 2016 was insane for many reasons, and I don’t care if people think I’m not caring about issues. My needs can come first. I’m not Mother Teresa. I can’t always drop everything to help others.

So, Peeps, I hope you all are having a good day. I finally saw the Big Sick, the movie about Kumail’s wife being in the hospital. I enjoyed the balance between the serious and the funny moments. It was never too saccharine, nor was it reminiscent of a Grey’s Anatomy episode. I also love the fact that this wasn’t a fictional story, but based on real life. Society, and the news in general, has made me a little cynical, yet somehow, I found myself wanting the two quirky romantic leads to be together. Then there’s the fact that it’s not only a story with a health crisis; it’s one where an interracial couple overcome all odds.


His Face And Other News

Are any of you into astrology? I don’t talk about it a lot because it’s kind of a taboo topic in real life. There’s this one page I follow on Tumblr called “Astrolocherry.” The way she writes about astrology is so surreal, magical, and vulnerable.

I’ve gone 32 days without seeing his face, and 10 days without going on his account. I did, relapse? No, that doesn’t sound right. I’m not an addict. I went back to seeing his face online. Yesterday and today. I hope I can stay focused on my job if I get this interview. I feel oddly calm about it. Maybe it’s coming from being more confident. So yeah. This blog post is short as well, hehe. He shouldn’t distract me. I clearly won’t be on my phone. I’m still disconnecting from technology (somewhat). I talk to my online friends. I think I can do better at not being on my phone at night. It just takes baby steps and discipline.

The posts are going to be more short and posted occasionally due to my potential job. So live laugh love. I swear, there’s something about the night that always makes me reveal my flaws. Or maybe it’s when I’m alone with my thoughts. Probably both.


He Should Be The Last Person On My Mind

I’ve gotten better at letting him go. I can’t say his name; it will just be personal. Plus, if I do, I’ll go back to the same dance that I’ve been trying to get out of. I only mention him online. If I talk about this person, I’ll only use the pronouns “he/him.” I guess I was idealistic in the sense that not checking his account for a few days would automatically make me forget that I obsessed over him for five years.

So much stuff is happening for me. I want a stable job, travel out of my country, keep writing my books online, and lots of exciting things. Sometimes I listen to sad songs to remember his flaws. Or at least, the flaws I perceived that he had. This is for my mental health. Obsessing over anything, whether it’s a celebrity, hobby, or even a TV show, is not healthy for anyone. I did have a busy day today.

I figured out how to get to West Hartford without relying on someone to take me. I went to see someone to practice interview skills. I took a bus ride to Hartford, then got an Uber to take me to my destination. So it wasn’t as hard as I thought. The woman was even nice enough to get me a ride back. She didn’t like that I spent money to get to her house, but I didn’t mind.

Tomorrow I’ll go out again. I need to focus on my own life, not a tired fantasy that’s played in my mind over and over again.


No Self Pity

Hey, people. I’m sure you all are either still at work, school, or accomplishing some other goal as if you’re against time itself, like Hamilton.

I need to say it. I’m OBSESSED with the masterpiece Lin-Manuel Miranda has bestowed upon us. Seriously, it’s amazing. I always think I’ll stop listening to it, but then I continue anyway. It’s like that moment you want to keep reliving even though it has already been completed.

I guess what I admire the most in Hamilton/Miranda is that they never play the pity cards when life gets rough. They just don’t have time to give up. No one should. I even feel the need to write a musical myself. I had a few ideas.

One was sort of similar to Hamilton. There are three characters, who are immigrants, and it reflects the current struggles they’re facing under Trump’s tyranny, with ICE and DACA in the mix. One is a guy from Ghana, Africa, another is a Puerto Rican grandmother, and the last one is an Italian teenager.

What do you all think? I know it has potential.


Letting My Anger Out

When I was reading Marlee Matlin’s memoir I’ll Scream Later, this guy next to me was on his screen chewing loudly. I couldn’t even think straight. So I got up and signed up for a computer to write on my blog. Does it ever occur to people that being considerate of others can come in handy? I don’t give a crap if you’re eating. Just don’t chomp down like the Hulk is eating a freakin’ tree.

It’s not even about him. It’s everything that’s happened in my life. I honestly don’t care if I’m pulling the victim card, rehashing issues that have ended many years and whatnot. I’m a human being with valid emotions and anger is one of them. The craziest part is that I used to think anger was a negative emotion, something that was forbidden for you to feel, especially if you are a black person who can’t show it, because you’ll have that stereotype of being an “angry black woman/man.” But I am angry. I’m angry about always keeping family secrets out of fear of embarrassment. I’m angry at the struggles that my mom has had to overcome to give us a better life. I’m angry at myself for still having perfectionist tendencies to make my hair and skin flake free due to my psoriasis and eczema. I’m angry at all of the teachers who yelled at kids when I attended school just because we misbehaved. For the record, if you can’t handle children in general, you shouldn’t be a teacher at all, but that’s just my opinion.

I’m angry at the amount of autistic people out there who are unemployed like myself, ridiculed, ostracized, judged on every level for just having one significant aspect different about their posture, voice, or mannerisms in general. I’m angry at missing all of the opportunities in my life because I wasn’t assertive with my own voice. I’m angry at people who act bitter with each other over the Internet, over what people say, no less, when we should be loving each other to make our lives easier to deal with. I’m angry at the subconscious stress I unnecessarily dealt on myself to make sure that I don’t ever repeat mistakes that my family has made in their lives, which I expressed in another blog that I wrote.

I’m angry for not knowing what the future will hold in store for myself and other people on the planet due to bigotry rising at an all time high. It’s like the 1960s all over again, only with social media added into the mix. I’m angry for not being able to travel outside of my country, for I don’t have a passport. I’m angry for trying to drive, with the best of my intentions, and still not maintaining a driver’s license. I’m angry at my father for not being true for who he is, and finding an excuse to see me especially, when he can just come at any time. I’m angry for the fact that my mother had to be my advocate all of those years for my autism and he was just in the sidelines, barely etched into my own life because religion got into the way. I’m angry at the idea of any religion or cult indoctrinating you at a naive age. I’m angry at some celebrities, not all, who think their biggest crisis is losing an earring, breaking up with their significant other, or getting into drama with another vapid person that isn’t worth the energy.

I’m angry from not being a politician or any other well known figure that can influence the world when the only thing I can use to inspire others is my intact writing.


I’m Not Always A Selfless Person

Little secret: The original title of this blog was “I’m Not A Famous Person.” This alternative sounds better though. Sometimes I feel bad that I can’t help everyone out there that’s struggling right now. Hurricanes Harvey and Irma, Trump effing up the DACA, and then we have America with an uncertain future about how the world will be. Granted, citizens have always been like that. JFK being assassinated definitely sent everyone in turmoil. I’m being random here, but to this day, I still wonder how Jackie Kennedy had that inner strength to just move forward after a traumatic tragedy like that. I even saw a documentary about the assassination on the National Geographic channel.

The thing is, as much as I want to help others, I have my own needs to be concerned about. I’ve kept a calendar of how long my hair has been natural, which an Uber driver from Ghana complimented on, so I have to thank him for that. He was talking to me about how women shouldn’t subject themselves to artificial beauty and that black women are beautiful the way they are. Normally, I usually try to stay safe from guys like that, but something about him made his compliments seem charming and not creepy. I think that gave me the chance to understand that having natural hair can be a beautiful thing (black people, you’ll know what I’m talking about.)

I also really want to leave the city I was born and raised him. I told the Ghana driver that too. He inquired if I ever traveled out of the country, but I said no. I want to, though. It’s not that I hate my city. I appreciate all the opportunities I’ve gotten from my city/state. But eventually, the bird has to leave its nest when it grows up. Talking to my UK friend has made me realize that I deserve better than this. I can accomplish my dreams no matter what.

Now I’m listening to a podcast about a writer who is hard on themselves. Why are we always our own worst enemies? What is about ourselves that gets us so insecure and full of hatred? Maybe I can view this from a philosophical view. There have been times in my life where I was self-conscious about the smallest, superficial things: how my outfit was, my body, hair, the typical issues a woman goes through in the 21st century! Oh, the day!

Seriously, I really want to know: where does all of the self-hatred come from? Is it our parents? Society? Media? A combination of all three? I’ve seen the beauty movement online where people defy societal norms, but then we still have the fashion and entertainment industries making lots of money from set norms. We still need to have this conversation at length.

celebrity, Writing

Christina Grimmie and PULSE: One Year and Three Months Later

As much as I love celebrities, I never want to do anything that will cause harm to myself or to the person I’m meeting. Unfortunately, that was the case with Christina Grimmie. Ryan actually didn’t even know that she died over a year ago, but she did. If you’re all still in the dark about what happened, I’ll summarize for you.

On June 10th, 2016, Christina Grimmie was at a Meet and Greet for her fans. From what I discovered online, she was going to hug this…monster who shot her four times. Around that time, the Pulse shooting had occurred where 50 people were killed at the gay nightclub by another madman. I did feel sad that both events happened, but also disgusted by the men that created the effect in the first place. I don’t even want to say their names. Why should I? They will only be remembered as murderers, not people who were human before they took innocent people’s lives!

Let me focus on both issues. One tragedy was triggered by homophobia, another was due to a delusional infatuation. How could anyone not see the signs? This is how people end up being harmed. No one takes the time to question what is happening at stake. I’m ranting though. I have been around LGBTQ+ people since my adolescent years. I don’t have a problem with them at all, and no one else should either. All that’s different about them is their sexual orientation. You act like they’re monsters from an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. They are people like us, and should be treated that way. I don’t know what that man’s whole issue was with LGBTQ+ folks were. Maybe if he had simply asked questions, or gotten help, the tragedy would have been prevented. Same with the man that shot Christina Grimmie. I would have loved it if a person had said this to him: “Listen, dude, this chick will never date you. She doesn’t even know you.”

That’s the thing with celebrity culture. We have these fantasies in our heads like we know them well, but we don’t know jack about their inner turmoils or other private thoughts. Unless you’re a personal assistant, or dating the celebrity yourself, you really don’t know them at all. I guess I bring this all up because part of me is idealistic that they can be prevented and what also gets me about tragedies is that people claim they’ll prevent it, but they still do, no matter how hard we try. Fame doesn’t always lead to happiness. I’m not implying that is always the case, but sometimes, people really have issues. We also need to factor in safety. There’s a reason security is around.

Again, have other interests besides bigotry/celebrities. I’m sure you can be a well rounded person who goes hiking, makes pottery, or does something that won’t harm a person at random.

RIP Christina Grimmie. RIP Pulse shooting victims.


The Crack of Dawn

My family, mainly my sisters and mother, love to be terrified of bugs. One morning, I woke up to my Mom going around the house and she screamed out of nowhere from seeing another bee in our house. I still can’t believe we’re getting bees in September, despite the fact that it’s getting close to Fall weather.

Christ, I wish I could move out sometimes. That’s the thing though. It’s not that simple. Besides finding the place, I would need to get a lease, tell everyone my plan, save money for said lease, and everything else that coincides with moving to a new place. This wouldn’t be the first time I would deal with moving. I’ve moved before with my family around my city to stay close to the schools I went to.

Since my sisters are off in other states, the youngest one is in college, and might move to New York, it really doesn’t make sense to live here. But life is hard enough as it is.


Reasons Why I Can Never Tell Him How I Feel

  1. I’ve had a crush on Him for five years and counting.
  2. I talked about him constantly, especially with my online friends.
  3. I can’t handle any more rejection.
  4. We live in two different countries.
  5. We haven’t met (#4).
  6. I’ll be seen as another fan in the crowd, not someone who wants to have a friendship/relationship with him.
  7. It’s too idealistic to have someone who is out of your reach.
  8. Taking him away from someone else that he’s dating would make me seem like the other woman, the Siren, the Jezebel woman if you will.
  9. I’ve wanted to be famous like him, and realized that it was the wrong reason to have fame in the first place. Actually, I first wanted fame when I was a teenager, so it was way before I knew about him. Maybe that reason isn’t valid at all.
  10. He’ll possibly assume that I only learned Italian to get closer to him, which isn’t true. I unexpectedly got into Italian in high school when I needed another elective to graduate. In other words, it randomly happened in my life.
  11. As much as I want to leave my family behind and start my own life, I don’t know if I would ever go to another country to do that. That would be a HUGE sacrifice to make.
  12. I keep having this scenario where he’ll read my book, Human Grenades, on Wattpad and he’ll put two and two together.
  13. Having the Autism Talk would be a hassle with the questions: “What’s Asperger’s Syndrome?” “Is it something that can be cured?” “How long have you had it?” “Are you like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man?”
  14. I could repeat my parents’ mistakes all over again.
  15. I’m divided between being logical and being impulsive.
  16. For some crazy reason, I feel this pressure to please his family, especially his mom and his brother. Although, I do want to hug his father. He’s a big teddy bear!