Until i compose a few of my own...
Other people's feelings.
Neurotypical: knows and cares.
Autistic-spectrum: doesn't know, but still cares.
Narcissist: knows but doesn't care.
Sociopath: doesn't know and doesn't care.
Which brings us to the question: what is it to know?
a'rie'mnu: passion's mastery
awek'es: solitude, privacy
besau: to map
fusik: bashful, shy
it-fam: blunt, tactless
kla-lil: research (n)
koh-nar: cultural fear of emotional vulnerability
let'theiri: peace of mind-serenity
mnu: mastery
nel-dath: pattern
nenat-su'us: prime number
nirsh-saktra: neurotypical
ri'a'gra: singleminded
rilokavik starun: deceptive/misleading speech
riolozhikaikaik: highly illogical
limuk patalan: face detection
saktra: autistic
shi'dunap: library
telvan: reading
terish: the art of combining
trau'es: honesty
tsatik- secret (aj)
vakh-hal-tor: to go boldly
Word denoting what, highest accolades? Earth-shaking? All-around handy? Incomprehensible, but--? Word used to aggravate me. I felt as rebuke. I never wanted to be a quiz kid: i couldn't help it. How was test-taking not part & parcel of the regimentation around me i so deeply abhorred? If they had rewarded me with freedom it might have meant something. They didn't.
You don't have to be supernaturally endowed to grok that this society is a game or rather, a whole set of interlocking games in which the actual solving of problems, say, nilpertains what the game calls "a good move"... In the pantheon of game-heroes you may scan names that once belonged to some of the luckier contestants. Now they're the wrapper, the advertizing.
In actual fact, on occasion one's contributions will be gladly acknowledged; more often, they're bitterly opposed at first then factions contest them for years. Ultimately it's forgotten even that there was a way to do things otherwise. That's society's last joke on the creative.
If you study game-history you learn of contributions scorned, just as worthy, & maybe you'll cherish names that no one else remembers. Do this for long, you'll begin to forget the solitary bitterness of not being acknowledged. It would be enough, wouldn't it, simply to notice & remember.
This is not in the game. Work at it.
i have always loved maps & atlases of all sorts; one of the few good memories of my earlier schooling is the elaborately decorated maps i made for my Texas history class--i colored each of the counties in a different pattern--& did it differently every time.
i especially like atlases published between 1922 & 1943 that show the country of Tannu Tuva, famed for its throat-singing.
historical atlases--from classical times, ktp. these explain a lot about current events, actually (e.g. the Ottoman Empire)...
i even like imaginary maps. for instance, i treasure a book from the early 70's that predicted California would fall into the ocean--& printed a helpful chart of what the new coastline would look like.
also images of the earth after the polar caps melt. i think about this one a lot.
i have made my own maps in a limited way (the underground tunnel system downtown, a creek near my house).
sometimes i think of all my other work as map-making, only in places you can't walk.
i was a reader of science fiction from early on. when i finished all the kids' scifi i started in on the adults'.
i had already decided what i was.
i was a mutant.
when i was growing up, i wasn't very coordinated; i couldn't throw, or run, or fight like a good kid was supposed to.
after sleeping on a futon for 10 years, my posture, breathing & coordination improved markedly.
(i have read that the japanese, by sleeping on the floor, stay limber into old age.)
oh--but i'm still a terrible dancer.