I spread the Sunday paper on the floor of my father's office in 1969 and I always wanted most to read the garish full color supplement section with it's wild tales of the future and unthinkable stories of what-if. It all seemed so important to me and I could not explain why to adults at the time. I had this feeling there were critical ingredients in there somewhere if I could just illuminate them as principles in my head. I didn't know why.
I know why now.
My asperger's brain was doing thousands, tens of thousands and millions of computations, mostly in my sleep in all likelihood and I was seeing far, far into a future that most grownups could not even imagine. The supplements just provided the raw grist for the seared mill of my mind to process. Working furiously, silently, thousands of projected outcomes over and over again without my even having to concentrate much on it. Over and over again seeing different scenarios and all of them ending the same way ... many decades ahead in some distant eventuality.
Somehow in my little atomic pile brain, I had guessed at things which the average person could not fathom no matter how long they thought about it. No wonder I was regarded as precocious. I knew a million things without the slightest need for any adult to explain them to me ... and then I saw the implications of those things ... and the implications of those implications.
My teachers often told my parents come report card time that there were countless things I just appeared to suddenly "know" despite the fact I had not been exposed to them.
This was my gift from the sodium lye that burned my nervous system. At least I got something in return.
You know how they say Aspies can never believe that others can't sense and feel the way they do? Well, I can't believe you can't smell it coming. I can't believe it. You do smell it, don't you? It's ozone and cordite and chemical minty chlorine smell mixed with smoke and soot. That's the smell when itz coming.