Why I'm a "creep."
Oct. 26th, 2025 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
johnpalmerI feel as if I found my theme song, along with a movie reference, so, maybe that means it’s time for another post about me. The song is “Creep” by Radiohead, and the chorus tends to go kinda like this:
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
I say the chorus “kinda” goes like that, because “But I’m a creep...” is the actual first line of the chorus, yet the lines starting with “Float like a feather…” are repeated, multiple times through the song, just prior to the official chorus.
The movie is “Radio,” a 2003 movie starring Cuba Gooding Jr. in the title role, as James Robert “Radio” Kennedy, an intellectually disabled man who is befriended by the local high school football coach. At one point, the coach defends Radio’s presence at the high school, saying they’re teaching him some stuff, but that’s not the point. He’s teaching them too – the way he treats everyone, all the time, is the way people wished they’d treat each other, even some of the time. And that’s something I don’t need a whole lot of instruction on, though I might need to remind myself of a few lessons from time to time… and I can still suck at being able to evoke that love, due to my pain and exhaustion.
Radio, as portrrayed by Gooding, showed uncomplicated, unafraid, love for people, not unlike the love shown by a well loved, happy, child, where, if you join in a play activity, you’re their best friend in the world, at least in the moment. We have that capacity, as children, but, as time goes on, and life gets harder, harsher, and more complicated, we might guard ourselves far more closely, and even lose the ability to get lost in love. Radio didn’t lose that capacity; that was why his friendship was so valuable, to so many people.
When I have an established relationship with someone, I can feel love like that. This is part of what I mean, when I discuss how intentionality is a big piece of my life; I don’t merely work through the motions of loving, I open my heart, and think of that love we know from childhood. And to close the loop, I’m now wondering if my own neurology is partway to blame (for good or ill) for me having that capacity. You see, my neurological pain causes me to have aphasia from time to time. When I double checked my definitions online, I saw that some uses of “aphasia” and “dysphasia” are synonyms, but, I choose “aphasia” specifically. The prefix a-, in aphasia, means “without,” and, I find myself unable to find the word or words that I need to use to express my thoughts. I sometimes can only find babytalkwords, like “me must hang up, can’t talk.” With friends, I can almost always find “I am Groot” as a handy way to say me no talky so good like everyone, right now (as Groot was introduced in “Guardians of the Galaxy”)
I can’t prove this with any rigor, but, because people who can talk don’t expect to find words eluding them. When I have my aphasia in mild form, I start to babble, trying to rope in my thoughts, using the wrong words. Instead of fumbling physically, because I have to use my left hand for something (I’m right-handed), I’m babbling, because I keep realizing I haven’t finished my thought, so I’m fumbling to finish it.
If a person is able to act without “talking thought,” they can do pretty amazing things. For example, if you’re a good driver, who always maintains situational awareness, you can avoid collisions in ways that seem magical, all without thinking in words (other than the necessary “holy crap,” etc.). You don’t think to check your mirrors; your eyes kinda flicker once in a while, to look for sudden motion in your mirrors, and those flicks happen as often as they need to, given prevailing traffic. If you’re like me, you might notice you feel angry, and then check your blindspot, and sure enough, someone is riding in it, so you change speed to get ride of the idiot… I’d noticed them move in, and hadn’t noticed them move back out, and that ticked me off, all without ever thinking “damned idiot in my blindspot.”
If you can love, without talking thought, without fear, without thinking about “but what if this seems like a bad idea, tomorrow, to have been this loving right now?” if you can do all that, you can love like me, and, I think, in a manner similar to the love Radio showed that caused other people to feel so loved by him. Do my aphasia, and cognition-destroying neurological pain, help me remember that simple, delighted, “OMG it’s my best friend who I never met before!” love-in-the-moment? But those very issues, my inability to talk, and my cognitive failures, are what make it so dangerous for me to live, and love.
So, you see, you all float like a feather, in a beautiful world. You’re so fucking special; I wish I was special. But I’m a creep; I’m a weirdo; what the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here, and people will hurt me. And the aphasia, and other cognitive failures, they’re a huge, huge, part of why I’m a creep. I really am neurodivergent, and, as with folks on the autism spectrum, it wouldn’t be so jarring, and so troublesome, if everyone was like me. But I’m not sure who is like me, much less who knows it. I’m the best proven troubleshooter I know, and I’ve met some good ones, and it’s taken me decades to piece this together, so I’m sure there are plenty of people like me who have no effing idea what’s killing them. Until I can start figuring out how to live in a world that’s crazy for me, while giving people the tools they need to help me with the crazy, I’ll always be a creep.
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
I say the chorus “kinda” goes like that, because “But I’m a creep...” is the actual first line of the chorus, yet the lines starting with “Float like a feather…” are repeated, multiple times through the song, just prior to the official chorus.
The movie is “Radio,” a 2003 movie starring Cuba Gooding Jr. in the title role, as James Robert “Radio” Kennedy, an intellectually disabled man who is befriended by the local high school football coach. At one point, the coach defends Radio’s presence at the high school, saying they’re teaching him some stuff, but that’s not the point. He’s teaching them too – the way he treats everyone, all the time, is the way people wished they’d treat each other, even some of the time. And that’s something I don’t need a whole lot of instruction on, though I might need to remind myself of a few lessons from time to time… and I can still suck at being able to evoke that love, due to my pain and exhaustion.
Radio, as portrrayed by Gooding, showed uncomplicated, unafraid, love for people, not unlike the love shown by a well loved, happy, child, where, if you join in a play activity, you’re their best friend in the world, at least in the moment. We have that capacity, as children, but, as time goes on, and life gets harder, harsher, and more complicated, we might guard ourselves far more closely, and even lose the ability to get lost in love. Radio didn’t lose that capacity; that was why his friendship was so valuable, to so many people.
When I have an established relationship with someone, I can feel love like that. This is part of what I mean, when I discuss how intentionality is a big piece of my life; I don’t merely work through the motions of loving, I open my heart, and think of that love we know from childhood. And to close the loop, I’m now wondering if my own neurology is partway to blame (for good or ill) for me having that capacity. You see, my neurological pain causes me to have aphasia from time to time. When I double checked my definitions online, I saw that some uses of “aphasia” and “dysphasia” are synonyms, but, I choose “aphasia” specifically. The prefix a-, in aphasia, means “without,” and, I find myself unable to find the word or words that I need to use to express my thoughts. I sometimes can only find babytalkwords, like “me must hang up, can’t talk.” With friends, I can almost always find “I am Groot” as a handy way to say me no talky so good like everyone, right now (as Groot was introduced in “Guardians of the Galaxy”)
I can’t prove this with any rigor, but, because people who can talk don’t expect to find words eluding them. When I have my aphasia in mild form, I start to babble, trying to rope in my thoughts, using the wrong words. Instead of fumbling physically, because I have to use my left hand for something (I’m right-handed), I’m babbling, because I keep realizing I haven’t finished my thought, so I’m fumbling to finish it.
If a person is able to act without “talking thought,” they can do pretty amazing things. For example, if you’re a good driver, who always maintains situational awareness, you can avoid collisions in ways that seem magical, all without thinking in words (other than the necessary “holy crap,” etc.). You don’t think to check your mirrors; your eyes kinda flicker once in a while, to look for sudden motion in your mirrors, and those flicks happen as often as they need to, given prevailing traffic. If you’re like me, you might notice you feel angry, and then check your blindspot, and sure enough, someone is riding in it, so you change speed to get ride of the idiot… I’d noticed them move in, and hadn’t noticed them move back out, and that ticked me off, all without ever thinking “damned idiot in my blindspot.”
If you can love, without talking thought, without fear, without thinking about “but what if this seems like a bad idea, tomorrow, to have been this loving right now?” if you can do all that, you can love like me, and, I think, in a manner similar to the love Radio showed that caused other people to feel so loved by him. Do my aphasia, and cognition-destroying neurological pain, help me remember that simple, delighted, “OMG it’s my best friend who I never met before!” love-in-the-moment? But those very issues, my inability to talk, and my cognitive failures, are what make it so dangerous for me to live, and love.
So, you see, you all float like a feather, in a beautiful world. You’re so fucking special; I wish I was special. But I’m a creep; I’m a weirdo; what the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here, and people will hurt me. And the aphasia, and other cognitive failures, they’re a huge, huge, part of why I’m a creep. I really am neurodivergent, and, as with folks on the autism spectrum, it wouldn’t be so jarring, and so troublesome, if everyone was like me. But I’m not sure who is like me, much less who knows it. I’m the best proven troubleshooter I know, and I’ve met some good ones, and it’s taken me decades to piece this together, so I’m sure there are plenty of people like me who have no effing idea what’s killing them. Until I can start figuring out how to live in a world that’s crazy for me, while giving people the tools they need to help me with the crazy, I’ll always be a creep.
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Audiobook read by Steven Pacey
