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As an Asperger's, my brain had the opportunity to be gifted with music. I could have learned the piano when I was three years old, gone on to university, music academy, and perhaps even to the Geneva orchestra. My days could be filled with composing new works, polishing old masters, and attending the occasional swanky wine and cheese party. 

Unfortunately, I'm tone deaf and have issues learning to play songs on my mandolin.

My brain could have welcomed the new world it was experiencing with paint brushes, oils, and canvas. It could have captured memories in detail or with impressionistic swirls. My apartment could have been close enough to make out the girders in the Eiffel Tower as a beautiful nude relaxed in the sunlight coming through my studio window, my brushwork bringing her inner glow alive.

I couldn't draw a stick figure without people asking what it was.

What my brain settled on was mathematics. Cold, pure equations. I can see the beauty of the numbers, but I have no way of showing someone else what I perceive. Math is practical. Math is required for most off-world jobs. So now I live alone, calculating probability and flight coordinates in the asteroid belt as my pod located and recovers minerals. The only other people out here have so much in common with me that we have nothing to say to each other. We're all alone, us Asperger's, with nothing but empty space and equations to solve.

Iron Noder 2017

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