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Philip Claude Andermann


Spokane, WA, US

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Philip Claude Andermann

"Sorry, I Am Different" by Phil [Asperger's] 1/14/13 330 PM EDT PART ONE! draft

I am Imagination.

I dream too much.

I am dangerous in many ways.

I feel like the future looking backward.
I look farward and see the future.

I thus try to look both ways.
But it is sometimes dangerous
just for me just to cross the street.

So often I am not part of the traffic.
I often feel so different:
therefore I feel so much
for all those who are different,
I seem to see them through walls.

I would seek solutions
for all those who are not currently
part of the traffic.

Perhaps ridiculously,
I would still dream of leading the traffic
into a different direction....
Perhaps it is enough to just be a stoplight
to prevent accidents?

No! I personally cannot be an auto-maton,
and I dream of more.

I know sometimes wed move faster
if we just all got out and walked.
Surely I can invent something far more intelligent
than, and fundamentally different from,
the auto-mobile
- or ANY current vehicle!

Beyond Facebook et al, a
medium for their innovative solutions to world problems:
new means for them to change karma into mission
for humanity's fulfillment.
I am a computer programmer
who shall develop a new autodidactic network
beyond open souce,
beyond an ebay of ideas.
cellularly reprogramming itself
for positive miscreants like myself
to synergistically
teach themselves the means of self-empowerment
without formal education,
to link the richest and the poorest
in solving poblems,
in dissolving our divisions,
to as in biomimicry
ingeniously ecologically deploy resources
far more efficiently
than individuals without this enhancement could
ever have envisioned.

In that direction,
I must first experience being part of that traffic,
I must start with using the rear view mirror

to look within:
I shall walk the talk.
For imagination
moves so fast.

I must remember I am Aspergian.
Remember that the automobile was invented by teams.
Therefore I must first re-invent myself.

At first imagination flies too much:
I both surf the space and spume
beyond our little rock,
and also find a reflective jewel
in every little rock around;
I look look beyond the walled windows of our cars
into eyes.
turning their warning beeps
into the most exquisite music,
despite my condition always learning -
determined through innvation
to transform this mundane
self-destructive reality
into dialogue of mutual understanding.

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Below is the result of your feedback form... It was submitted by
Wesley A. Storer ( on Monday, January 14, 2013 at 12:34:14

poem: 'cameoca' by mr. kind-time-truly

'You are more beautiful than the prettiest flower'

Disclaimer with confession

Actually, I swiped "'you are more beautiful than the prettiest flower"
From the memorial wreath scene in the Jack Reacher movie.

Can you ever forgive me?

I died with' Sandy'

Who is John Galt?

Are you sayiing I'm feeble minded?

From 'Judgement at Nurenberg'

I like serious movies