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Dear Oliver Sacks and Sir Terry Pratchett,
I did not want either of you to sicken and die but you did. I would have traded a hundred USA politicians for both of you.
You gave me hope. You opened up my world. And now my world is fading again. I am cramped.
I am tired of adulting. I owe money because of a break up. I got kicked to the curb. I am paying once again for what someone else did to me.
I am autistic. I am worn out. I want friends I can go places with. I have people who want rides in my car.
I do have a cool job. It does not pay enough but I am lucky to have it.
The world has become a lonely and terrifying place. My dreams are shattered. I Don't know where I am going next. I am tired of getting nowhere. I have no hope.
I am an outcast.
Help me.
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