He said rest was for the contented if he sat still too long he could feel the world crawling on his skin and he would scratch until his pores wept He said he could never be in a forever place the inertia would harden his synapses and he would lie in the bed for weeks sadly derelict I asked him if perpetual movement caused him to miss the importance of small moments He never answered, already past the mundaneness of small talk he skipped through an indigo dream conversing with an empty sky
Actually he is deceased. He was what some consider an "Indigo Child"...someone with an extremely high IQ but symptoms of autism. He took his own life after years of mental issues and severe depression.
