If someone else completes you, you are building yourself with the wrong tools.

Autism and the Common Consequences.

Now- what do others expect of me? The whirring of gears within an empty space, the mutually assured destruction of ideals? Pity to extend prettily, parents and protectors privileged to be proud? I am more than a puzzle box missing a few screws- I would like to think I'm not doomed to Sisyphean explanations. Expecting crib mobiles does not influence their existence; car crashes are far more likely. So shove some sovereign medicine my way and call it a day, doc; this session is well through its date. Help from the helpless is too ironic for my fussy tastes.

Shatter my skull against the wall- it won't help you see wires.

I wear a striped yellow-black necklace around my neck; aren't I just pretty? I dance, sing and worship the rusty metal jewellery! I'm a busy little bee, buzzing for sanctioned attention and commodities! Totally carefree and natural! Let me whisper you a secret, though; (I'm about to be conditioned with electric shocks of 60 volts for stuttering). How wondrous! Speak for me, people who don't have me in their brains! Rid me of my buzzy bee infection, don't let the puzzle piece plague wash over the nation! Kill me; steal away my individuality- put tape on my mouth and beat me with metal crowbars plastered with nature stickers! Slice open my arteries and make me bleed out in a glass box, make my death an art piece!

Protectors gamble away their money on slot machines bathed in blood. The house collects and slaughters another in celebration.

Oh, dearly beloved- how you say my name! You say it with such honey-covered honesty, slow and methodical like a pretty little slur! Insult me and leave me wanting more- crash your lips into my bruised ones! Kick me and fuck me! Drive yourself into me like a car crash; boil my mind alive! I'm a slut for indecency, for the best policy! Grab me by the throat, peer into my half-lidded eyes as oxygen escapes me! I'm your constant muse and canvas, drowned in purples and reds! In a barren earth full of whole apples, could I want another? The crescendo that happens as you finally seal me away beneath your glass floorboards is ecstasy.

Tell me your filthy Protagoras truths- they fill up my gluttonous masochist gearbox.

The True Fit

Have you experienced that sense of not quite fitting in, where you find yourself putting on a facade to conform to the roles others have assigned you? I've been there too.

But I've come to believe that there's no predefined role we're meant to occupy. We aren't meant to slot into any particular mould. None of us are. We're all unbound on this planet, free to chart our own paths. We can pursue our desires without being confined by judgments. If someone insists, "This isn't who you are,"  they are mistaking a single brushstroke for the entirety of the canvas. It's like trying to capture the essence of a forest within a single leaf. The truest version of yourself shines through anytime and anywhere, and only you hold that knowledge. Don't permit anyone to alter this.

Realise that even the most seemingly distant individuals possess warmth, the happiest souls can grapple with sadness, and the strongest ones have moments of fragility. None of us are entirely complete. We're fragments seeking our counterparts, searching for the pieces that fit naturally. It's not about reshaping ourselves to fit someone else's mould; it's about finding the right fit and not having to contort ourselves in the process. I understand that some have encountered those pieces at some point, yet they’re hesitant to trust they fit because they’ve grown accustomed to self-sabotage, perhaps due to past experiences. However, I’d like to think that it's inevitable that people enter and exit our lives, and while the endings might be anticipated, we never lament the connections we made, the friendships formed. This is because those connections fit us seamlessly. It's just that the relentless march of time corrodes even the strongest bonds, leading to the eventual disintegration of the once-fused fragments. As a result, the portrait of us remains suspended in eternal incompleteness, a snapshot frozen in an unfinished narrative. While they may be the missing piece that brought wholeness to the image of us at a point in time, they aren't the sole puzzle piece. Seek another complementary fit and forge a fresh depiction. This is how we evolve. Much like a mosaic, where individual pieces come together to form a captivating whole, our journey is enriched by the diverse fragments we gather along the way. As we discover new fragments that resonate with our essence, we expand our mosaic, making it richer and more intricate. Every encounter, every experience, is a new tile waiting to be added, contributing to the intricate artwork of our existence, telling a unique story that celebrates the complexity and beauty of our shared human experience.

Nothing in this world presents itself exactly as it appears. The struggles and triumphs, the contradictions and layers – they shape us into multifaceted beings. It's the imperfections and vulnerabilities that give depth to our stories, making us relatable and relishing the unpredictable nature of life. Isn't that what lends a touch of magic to everything? This is why each individual is a miracle. If things can be more than meets the eye and appearances can be deceiving, how can we expect ourselves to be accurately perceived? 

When one adopts a guise to emulate another fragment, they'll inadvertently attract pieces that don't truly complement their essence. It's like trying to force a puzzle piece into a spot where it doesn't belong – it might fit temporarily, but it distorts the overall picture. So be yourself, as your courage might also grant others permission to do the same. It's a ripple effect that transforms not just your world, but the world of everyone you touch. So, Embrace the messy, imperfect, and beautifully unique individual that you are. Recognise that the pieces of your puzzle will come together in ways that are unexpected but incredibly fulfilling. 

there's something really touching about replaying disco elysium and going over harry's choices and thoughts, now knowing more about who he is and what he has done. like, he was a shitty dude, or at least he had become one. he obviously wasn't rotten to his core or it wouldn't even occur to him to be kind and considerate, but he could be shitty and violent. point blank. your input can affect who he had been in the past, yeah, but only to an extent. you can't undo the harm he has caused. you can apologise to people plenty, but not all of them forgive you. sometimes, you don't even have a chance to ask them to.

i don't think this game is about redemption as much as it is about growth. to me, it's very important that kim is a stranger, someone who cares about who you turn out to be, right there where he can see you, but who doesn't comment on your past. he is essentially your most tangible mirror, he gives you a chance to grow. it doesn't matter to him that harry is an addict, that he has lost his memory and his badge and his gun, it doesn't matter that he doesn't have enough money to pay for his room and they keep coming across things he accidentally broke.

harry starts the game with a debt: he owes something to people he has hurt and he might never be able to give it back. he too is suffering and has no idea what to do with the heartbreak. but the people of this small, forgotten town only know him vaguely, if at all. and kim just got there. you don't start with a negative with him, your relationship is a blank canvas. he doesn't need to forgive you. you haven't hurt him, and your issues aren't something you should apologise for. he hopes you get better, but he doesn't think it's a crime that you are struggling.

throughout the game, harry can choose to be kind and help kids and strangers and old ladies who are trying to achieve lifelong dreams. he can pick sides and ask the right questions. but he can't apologise to his almost-ex-wife, and if you try it means nothing. in fact, the entire game is about accepting the fact that he has to let her go.

there's a conversation you can have with one of the lorry drivers where he tells you that he misses his wife and kids and harry can ask "what's it like to miss someone?". the man replies that it's painful but beautiful, and do you miss someone, too? and one of the dialogue options is to say "no, i feel like i'm haunted". i don't know if that's meant to reference the pale somehow, but i think it fits harry's experiences much better. i don't believe he misses dora as much as he misses the version of himself that used to make her happy. he has crystallised his past as the only window of time where peace and self-worth make sense. he is haunted by a puzzle piece that cannot fit in the present but that he has convinced himself he cannot live without. he has been stuck in this limbo for six years, and during the canon timeline of disco elysium he gets to finally move forward. to hope. to grow. to fuck it up and then do it again.

i am not even sure harry is even particularly remarkable. the point isn't who he is but what he does, the things he can hope and fight for in spite of his past. it's just good game