Autism and the Church, feel like walking barefoot on smashed glass shards a mile long in the dark. What I have seen the Church do to homo sapiens is just another cursed slavery. They didn’t like me at Church. I had to pray at a certain time, in a certain place, and I sing loudly and I rock and roll. Cold stares in a cold darkness of We Disapprove of Your Kind. Church is all about caste and class, derived from a black book of caste, and class, and homo sapiens who own other homo sapiens personified by greed exceeds the cause of just being human. In my church, we only have one devout leader, and that would be me. I make a lot of polls, and he counts them. My Church exists at the top of a mountain where the mist runs below wrapping itself around every gracious tree, every blade of grass, in solitude, and then moves on. Sexuality is like that, too. Who holds who to account. I am not a part of anyone’s family. No one will have me.  Not Church. Not a school system. I might rock back and forth once. As soon as some employer welcomes you into the “family,” you need to run. The man always exacts a price to be paid. Coming out has consequences. If you leave that part missing  – people will tune you out – there are bubbles in every community. Religion can serve as a cudgel to beat you with everything from a pulpit to Sunday School Thinking. I sit on a rock and watch leaves. Sudden, sublime, and all my buttons button shirts of survival because survival is the final fetish.