#autistic musician

[surrah698]

BUZZ BUZZ =😖

Lol it's true! 😅🤣

[indianchindian]

Some more smiley and laughing Kenshi Yonezu which always warms my heart ❤️💖😭🥹

[nonna-thefolkgremlin]

hello! my name is nonna(she/they) and i write, record, and produce music with the help of my guitar, goose.(yes i name my instruments shhhh)

i write predominantly alternative folk/indie folk, but dabble in other genres as well! i’m working on recording an album right now, and i’m looking forward to releasing it this november!!

i’m so excited to share this journey on tumblr!!

[socratena]

I have a podcast now!!!

Introducing the SocraPod! The Socratena Podcast 📻

It's been a long time since I've used Tumblr - some of you might remember my old blog @wasabitsunami and a collection of extremely cringe side-blogs. I took a loooooooong break from about 2016, because I was terrified of my content being misinterpreted, and starting arguments. It also got increasingly hard to make it as a musician on youtube, especially a parody artist.

But now I have a podcast! And you can still find my comedy music, but mostly on Tiktok now.

Come and join me as I talk about being a neurodivergent musician, mental health, digital footprints, and being chronically online. I'd love to hear your thoughts too!

Oh yeah, and did I mention I live in the UK now?! 😱

It's good to be back Tumblr! ❤️❤️❤️

[changeling6]

Eyes Closed

When I was young

They cut the eyelids out of my head

Told me it was for the best

Lest they find me in the streets dead

I don't think I'll ever know

The cost of tears falling from my eyes

To people who

Keep on their days with no will to compromise

I was born on the horizon

So I could see everything

From the sorrow den of lions

And what goes through night and day

And the winter is calling

So I set the sun

Upon the edge

Of tomorrow's smoking gun

I don't know

What life is like with eyes closed

Jumping at every step

Patience has gone on to rest

I don't know

What it's like to think of tomorrow

When I can't rest my head

Eyes open to speak with the dead

Did those cracks seem

So big just a few years ago

Glowing green

Of monsters that wait in the throes

I know what I've seen

It's not like I dream anymore

They may be free

With someone who does not dream of war

I was born on the horizon

So I could see everything

From the flowing den of diamonds

To the poisonous river's spring

I was born for the hunt

But if I'm hunter or hunted, I can't tell

Because when I get close to anyone

We run before we draw from the well

I don't know

What life is like with eyes closed

Jumping at every step

Patience has gone on to rest

I don't know

What it's like to think of tomorrow

When I can't rest my head

Eyes open to speak with the dead

Can you take your hand

And cover up my eyes

So I could meet with the Sandman

And uncover them when morning arrives

I can't understand

Why I was forced into this life

I live on no land

I'm on the run from the pain of the time

Do you know

What life looks like with eyes closed

Painting every word in my head

I'm sorry for the way that I left

But do you know

What it's like to plan for tomorrow

When wealth will enter your hand

And when the dreams welcome you again

[vulpine111]

I plan to spend as much of my day as possible learning guitar!

I found a channel on YouTube that teaches chords common in punk style music. It seems like a good place to start. Once I have all that down, I'll aspire to more complex styles, I hope.

I made a playlist with some vids from SugarPill Productions and other channels.

I just took my methadone but hopefully it doesn't make me nap for too long after it kicks in.

I still don't have the right mask for my CPAP machine. I don't understand what's taking them so long. I might call my care coordinator and see if she got them to choose a fitting day for me yet.

They've really been dragging their feet.

[lithium-91-moved]

actually can we get a list going of musicians who’ve self-identified as autistic /aspergers/on the spectrum? i’ll start

Peter Tork (The Monkees)

David Byrne (Talking Heads)

Dave Gahan & Martin Gore (Depeche Mode)

Adam Young (Owl City)

[spademooncake]

I hate to brag, but...

I can officially play the Song of Unhealing on the piano as of last Monday! This also means that I can legally make the original Song of Healing sound scary as hell by reversing it 😆 y'all are welcome 😉😇👻

[ofdinosanddais1]

I accidentally made my first EP a metaphor for Erikson's stages of development like:

Everbe: Trust vs mistrust, autonomy vs shame/doubt. You are born. You are a body. You are learning to trust your body. You are learning to develop autonomy. You are not conscious yet but the one thing tying you to every living being on this planet is that you have a body.

Eversee: Initiative vs Guilt, Industry vs Inferiority. You have gained awareness of your existence. You cannot influence the world around you easily. You're learning by observing. You're learning of what it means to exist.

Everthink: Identity vs Confusion. You are developing an identity. You are trying to develop with a million people throwing things at you about what you shoulf be. You're trying to find identity while everyone is trying to decide it for you. You are trying to learn about your everyday while everyone is trying to nitpick everything about you. You are trying to learn about yourself.

Everknow: Intimacy vs Isolation. You are trying to learn about the world. You are trying to learn about other people. You are trying to learn about the environment. Intimacy is more than sex and romance. You must become intimate with knowledge.

Everchange: Generativity vs Stagnation, Integrity vs Despair. You now want to have a place in the world. You have this knowledge about yourself and everything else and now you want to use it to lead, to change, to grow, to help.

A lot of my music writing process is just my brain dumping something into my notes app and then later I'll reread it and be like "wait a minute. I'm onto something here." And honestly I feel like its a gift of knowledge from maybe the Universe as a whole or even Divine knowledge from the Gods. I don't know. But it exists and I made it exist and it means something more than I intended it to mean.

[cosmicblueautie]

As per tradition, blue will not be a color door #AutusmAcceptanceMonth. We light it gold around here! #ActuallyAutistic.

[surrah698]

I have attracted these types and been in relationships with them multiple times.

😭 Us neurodivergent peeps are super suseptible to certain types of predatory personalities.

I wrote a song about how it feels to be in a relationship with them.

linktr.ee/Surrah698

[indianchindian]

My favorite shots from the Azalea MV. Felt like making gifs of it :)

[nonna-thefolkgremlin]

I love using aspects of fantasy creatures to refer to certain people in my life. The dragon, for example, is about a protector and a safe space.

But I love just going off and saying, “why would i write about love when life is so much more complex than that?”

Not throwing people who write about love in a bin. I love that people can write about romantic love and be genuinely passionate about it and connect with it, but that’s not something I’m capable of. I can write about familial or platonic love with almost zero issues because I experience those emotions a lot. When I write, it’s a matter of what I connect with the most emotionally in that moment. Whether that’s compassion, grief, frustration, or confusion, it’s just how I process things.

I need to physically write it out, or play it, to release it. Music has been a release for me, a way I can express myself without feeling the judgement of those around me in real time. I can form stories that have aspects of my own life, but are not entirely my story. They’re just pieces that form together to create my story.

This is a lot, I know, but I’m hoping that if you’re reading this and have feelings and emotions that are too much or seem like they are not enough, you are not alone.

[tkmarcic]

any other music players out there find one riff that you really like and then play on repeat non stop or am i just autistic

[changeling6]

The Whales That Live In Dying Seas

I built my foundation on tectonic plates

Deep beneath the sea

A story carved us into the stone

Moving us where we need to be

But when tidal waves tear us apart

From the motor in the boat

That burns off the fuel of stars

I must wonder where we went wrong

And find our way back to the start

Bleed upon your land for me

The earth will know where you belong

Your soul will fall into the sea

Where whales will write you into their songs

But if you build your colony

The sirens will find what you love

And lure you in to steal your body

There is no creature that you are above

I live in a home right where

The sand will meet the sea

I walk upon this earth on grass

Where the stars point me to be

And if you put your ear

To the ground you'll hear

She's crying out for you

Because of what you do

An explosion of violins

Erupting from the violence

That we choose to bring here

I hope it fills you up with fear

Cause the jungle's miles of veins

Will tangle us all up

And work itself into our brains

The trees know just what you don't

And what you refuse to obey

Bleed upon your land for me

The earth will know where you belong

Your soul will fall into the sea

Where whales will write you into their songs

But if you build your colony

The sirens will find what you love

And lure you in to steal your body

There is no creature that you are above

If all the water from your tap

Grew thick and turned all black

Would you know just what you've done

Or is it till smoke fills up your lungs

You can't separate, you belong to this

You can't escape into the endless abyss

And find another planet to ruin

Bleed upon your land for me

The earth will know where you belong

Your soul will fall into the sea

Where whales will write you into their songs

But if you build your colony

The sirens will find what you love

And lure you in to steal your body

There is no creature that you are above

I did not make this bed for you

So why do I have to lie in it too?

I didn't dig up the fossil fuels we use

Yet the blame is all on us for the earth you abuse

[edienotsedgwick]

A collection of words for people who love their favorite artists a little too much ✨

(these are all bits of what will become actual songs eventually) (I also have a tendency to directly mention who I'm talking about because I wear my heart on my sleeve)

I opened my eyes, and saw the world in grey.

It was a far cry, from the gold in my blinds - the morning before that magical night.

The day is just as bright, but there might as well be clouds when I feel like this.

Good empty morning, you've come and gone.

Now I'm aimlessly wandering.

Taking the bus feels like I'm going nowhere.

Going to work feels like a dead end.

I shouldn't be straight back in normalcy when I was just in ecstasy.

You were there in the same place as me, you weren't just a picture on my screen.

*** I'm in a field, you're standing in front of me. A girl with curly brown hair, in the band shirt I used to wear. I could still talk about you more than anyone. It's not just me there but also thousands of friends. Happy to know you're real not just pixels in a screen's glare. The kids from yesterday, with the light behind their eyes, cause they weren't afraid to stay alive. Black skirt, white shirt you looked so cool that night. *** Dearest favorite artist, you might hate my music, but I think that we're kindred spirits.

***

Cross the bridge into town, there's not much to see around.

You always said that, I didn't care - I still loved it anyway.

Go to the mall, go to the thrift stores, skip the one owned by pro-lifers.

Stare across the water view, and wait to get picked up when we get bored.

Pretend it's Blackwood in the early 90s when it's just Wanganui 2020.

*** Driving in your mothers car, the sun is setting I don't want it to end.

Driving in your mother's car, the CD on, gold against the soul.

We sang... "from despair to where"

***

I didn't know I didn't love men romantically but fannish hysteria, transcended sexuality.

I got myself to the front for every band I would see, once I got so close that this theatre kid from Vegas has my drawing of his face on his mantelpiece.

I liked the experience, but this one I won't relive.

Now he's broken up "the band" and he's got a history with creeps who are still in his company.

***

Pick me up in the middle of the night when my eyes can't stay open and feel like cement.

Walk me to my bedroom when I'm no longer conscious and I'll wake up bathed in the 7am glow.

You're rehearsing your tracks in a room down the hallway and I look with a joyous gaze.

We're no longer parasocial, I fucking love you.

*** I believe I have the charms and the wit to will my way in and do powerful things.

Everyday when I catch the bus, I plan every step in the world in my head.

Nobody really sees, the lengths I will go to turn all of this limerence into something explosive.

It's just so funny, that I'm losing it, but to you this is just another day at the office.

***

You're a cloth monkey, you're comforting, you don't know me but I give you your money.

In my downtime, in times of grief, you are the softness that I need tenderly.

Mutually parasitic, emotionally cannibalistic.

Two puppets on the same strings.

These feelings are not all whimsy, but at the same time, this is what we need. *** There's a day coming that I dread, but nonetheless have to face.

My wife will find me in the kitchen, she'll pull me in embrace.

She'll tell me that musician I like just died today.

She won't be prepared for me to bawl sliding down a wall.

You're not a demigod

You're not a demigod

But I don't want that day to come, without saying hello let alone goodbye.

A letter in your pocket with everything you need to know about my life before and after you reached my heart.

You're not a demigod

You're not a demigod

I know I should critique this world, that sets us up with these false gods.

I know that there's a problem and my special interest is the system.

But I love it so much, though it's made of starving bones it is my home.

Stockholm syndrome.

***

People say you should kill your heroes, no more pedestals, no more disappointments.

It doesn't work for me in practice.

I'm always crying when the pistols on their necks.

I never pull the trigger.

I apologize and let them run away.

They leave me like a stray dog.

Sometimes I say hi again, revisiting the junkyards in my head.

***

Pick me up and spin me around, like you've come home from war and you missed me so much.

Make sure my feet fly off the ground.

A studio in the country is waiting.

We catch up in a happy haze.

We're no longer parasocial...

***

I can't believe I'm saying this all out loud.

Why do I think I should air it out?

I tell it to my diary, I tell it to my friends, but I'm still full of pent up hysteria.

The kind that makes me relieved that I'm a child of the 21st century.

Cause bless, any girl like me from the 50s probably has a lobotomy.

Dear god this is raw, this makes me look scary.

I promise I won't be, dear favorite artist, I'll be as normal as I can be.

***

I've gone to sleep many harsh and exhausting evenings.

Me glaring into your static eyes on my phone, and then closing my eyes.

Moving my hand to the back of my neck and up into my scalp, ruffling my hair, massaging the areas of my head that are never touched like this.

Comforting myself until the pillow I'm leaning into is a chest and my arm is yours.

***

Something I fear, is one day becoming another villain in the many horror stories written about fame.

I'm not a stan! I don't want to be a stan! I know in my heart that obsession that leads to violence will not get me anything I want and I will never be the kind of person who succumbs to it.

No one will ever put "stalker" or "killer" at the end of my name when it's searched.

***

I can't meet them, work with them, befriend them, with you in the reflection of the kitchen windows in the evening clouding my expectations.

Cause while this is a dream come true, I acknowledge that this isn't going to be a manifestation of every single fake scenario I've made up on the bus on both commutes.

I have to see this person not as my mind's self soother, but instead as who they really are.

They breathe, they eat, they sleep, their body can do all the gross things that my one does.

The ornate embroidered curtain has to fall.

***

Farewell, to the best imaginary friend I've ever had