#AutisticAF Out Loud

Johnny Profane (Knapp Âû)
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One Voice... Raw. Real. Fiercely Autistic. johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com

  1. 14 MAY

    When "Kind" Words… Hurt: An Autistic Elder on Microaggressions

    I told a small, self-deprecating… white lie. To get out of committing to volunteering for a new project. My bad. You see? I had history with this person. Co-founder of an advocacy nonprofit. Small. Neurodivergency-affirming. Big ideas. Little organization. “I’m not sure I’m the right guy for your project. I just can’t seem to do something… this big… anymore.” I just want to gracefully bow out. Yet not hurt feelings. Or challenge them. I plough on gamely, “Maybe we can chat once in a while…?” “Sure you can! I know you can do it!” That zeal of a new convert to pop psychology. Rapid-fire words ricocheting out of my headset. “You just have imposter syndrome. I know. Because I do too! I have this book you could read…” I tried to be gentle. “My friend, I don’t have a syndrome of any kind. I’m just telling the truth. No need for diagnosis.” It went rapidly downhill from there. Let’s say, I felt immediate… unease. While we were talking. But I didn’t know why. Yet. But like a persistent smell neurodivergent-dot-me can never ignore… that feeling lingered. Building as I replay the conversation over and over. Then it takes days to recover. Before I can work on my projects again. Because what I experienced? Some label “benevolent ableism.” I call it soft-core discrimination. Trying to look like… kindness. I’ll never know their motivation. I won’t risk the pain of asking. You see? “Kind” words can do real damage. All you really gotta do to cause pain? Simply speak in the grammar of help… then act out the logic of condescension. That’s it. Some research supports this… catch-22. Patronizing support? It’s one of the most common, damaging, and invisible acts one human can perpetrate on another disabled human. That I know. Cuz it’s deniable. So at best, socially dangerous to challenge. A lot like an unwanted, ambiguous… intimate… gesture. From an acquaintance. And queasiness has only gotten worse for me with every ambiguous human interchange. The weapon and pain metaphors I use in the performance piece? Intentional. Cuz the escalation you may experience? These. Are. My. Reality. This ain’t about an additional diagnosis. Or a personality flaw. It is about me being autistic-as-f**k me. Yeah. I may be a tad more sensitive to condescension than the Average Bear. Just like I need sunglasses. Even on many cloudy days.Which ought to be actually advocated for. Not patronized. By an advocate. Or employer. Or loved one. Cuz this is not something I can self-help-guru my way out of. Or be trained to control through Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Like I need one more thought to exhaustingly monitor. Monitoring that could never “cure” my sensory issue with smells. Or my freaking balance problems. Least of all my condescension trauma… So, the only guiding principle I must remember when I navigate social or professional waters… “I must honor my limits. Or they will disable me.” One last thing… I wrote this about my real experiences as an autistic professional. In a world unkind to difference. But my guess? Folks from any “disadvantaged” background may see themselves in it. Let’s build on that kinship. Maybe make a change. Together. Intro Content Note: Contain” Intro Content Note: Contain” Intro Content Note: Contains descriptions of everyday condescension… and opinions. That may resonate uncomfortably for autistic, neurodivergent, and… other people. The Cruelest Knife Leaves No Scar You never feel the cruelest knife Poison-tipped with a pat on the head A smugly… gentle… smile Words so softly, warmly… said. He only said… “You’re flourishing. Even with autism. Good on you.” Judgment is like napalm Dropped benignly… safely… from on high Burning invisibly… under my skin. She casually said… “You got imposter syndrome. I got this book…?” Or some radiant dirty bomb Parachuting slyly… tenderly… Silently melting my guts inside. The manual simply read… “Neurodivergents think outside the box. That makes them perfect… for certain tasks.” Leaving a foul smell in the air Mustard gas masquerading… Like piercing gas-station incense Labelled... blindingly, “Stay Calm.” Stealth Weapons of Mass Humiliation Or casual toxic caring Preening in plain sight Don’t breed even sullen gratitude Just resentment. Rebellion. Sometimes? The worship of tyrants. You never feel the cruelest knife No, Not right away. A slice so sharp it leaves no scar So weird… that instant shapes my life. More autistic lived experience: If this resonated for you, I share more pieces like this on AutisticAF Out Loud. Readings for Your Deeper Dive Not exhaustive. Just sources that made me think. Benevolent Ableism * “Consequences of Confronting Patronizing Help for People with Disabilities” Harvard Kennedy School Government and Applied Psychology Lab · January 2023https://gap.hks.harvard.edu/consequences-confronting-patronizing-help-people-disabilities-do-target-gender-and-disability-type * “Misguided Gestures of a Condescending Kindness” Radical Accessible Communities · July 2013https://radicalaccessiblecommunities.wordpress.com/2013/07/10/misguided-gestures-of-a-condescending-kindness/ Ableist Microaggressions * “Ableist Hostility Disguised as Friendliness” Real Social Skills · January 2016https://realsocialskills.org/2016/01/08/ableist-hostility-disguised-as-friendliness/ * “Ableist-Microaggressions Towards People with Disabilities” REDIS / CEDID · n.d.https://redis.cedid.es/index.php/redis/article/download/1161/568/ Discriminatory Gaslighting vs. Imposter Syndrome * “Imposter Syndrome, Or Something Else? Historian Talks Discriminatory Gaslighting” NPR · May 2021https://www.npr.org/2021/05/09/995172973/imposter-syndrome-or-something-else-historian-talks-discriminatory-gaslighting * “Imposter Syndrome in Neurodiversity” The Rowan Well · December 2024https://www.therowanwell.co.uk/blog/imposter-syndrome-in-neurodiversity Performative Allyship & Movement Co-optation * “Performative Neurodiversity – the Appropriation and Watering Down of a Human Rights Movement for Profit” Therapist Neurodiversity Collective · May 2024https://therapistndc.org/performative-neurodiversity-the-appropriation-and-watering-down-of-a-human-rights-movement-for-profit/ * “Performative Allyship Within Capitalist Systems” Neurodiverging · January 2024https://www.neurodiverging.com/performative-allyship-within-capitalist-systems/ Autistic Identity, Masking & Ableism (Research) * “Understanding Autistic Identity Contingencies” PubMed Central · December 2025https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC12804416/ * “The Division Between Neurodiversity Advocates and The Rest of the World” Neuroclastic · January 2026https://neuroclastic.com/nd-nt/ Counterpoint / Complicating Perspectives * “Make Neurodiversity Boring” Boston Review · June 2025https://www.bostonreview.net/forum/the-future-of-neurodiversity/make-neurodiversity-boring/ * “The Definitional Problems at the Heart of the Neurodiversity Movement” STAT News · November 2025https://www.statnews.com/2025/11/24/neurodiversity-movement-neurotypical-definitional-problems/ Weapon Metaphor & Language (Supporting Context) * “The Metaphor as Weapon” Harvard Political Review · February 2015https://harvardpolitics.com/metaphor-weapon/ * “Weaponizing Words: War Metaphors and Public…” UIN Malang e-Journal · June 2025https://ejournal.uin-malang.ac.id/index.php/humbud/article/view/32376 Connect: * Drop a comment… How do you experience… condescension? * How have you answered it? * Hit the “subscribe” box for new releases Get the Chapbook: Press enter or click to view image in full size every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, art, poetry, and raw neurodivergent truth. Thirteen pieces. One autistic life, unfiltered. Available on Amazon Subscribe to AutisticAF Out Loud… free or paid… and get the full PDF in your inbox. On me. #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter: One Voice. Raw. Real. Fiercely Autistic. I’m an autistic poet and spoken word performer, diagnosed at 63. Now in my 70s. I’ve been publishing AutisticAF Out Loud since 2019… work that refuses to be packaged. My spoken word piece , every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, was published in Wordgathering, a journal of disability poetry & literature. In 2022, I spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day about my illustration work rooted in autism & ADHD. I live in a rural Indiana trailer… across the courtyard from my wife’s trailer… with my 2 dogs & cat. Occasionally I shave… to face Walmart. The algorithms hate me. I must be doing something right. #SpokenWord #AutismAcceptance #AutisticPoetry #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click below to receive new posts… free. To support my ongoing work, consider a paid subscription. Support AutisticAF.me with a one-time tip here: Paypal · Ko-Fi · Facebook Pay “Johnny Knapp Âû” https://ko-fi.com/autisticaf This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    2 min

  2. 8 MAY

    Family, God & Vodka Neat...? My Autistic Elder’s Truth

    A comet, a cult, an ice storm, a family dinner... and a disastrous drinking game. Winter, 1997-98. One autistic elder's truth about faith, control, and what it costs to survive your own family. ⚠️ Content note: offensive language, substance use, religious criticism, mental health themes, cult references. Strong feelings. A very personal truth you may not share. This is a hybrid spoken word piece — poem, film, mini-series. Scenes. Jump cuts. Background music. A Prelude in Northern New York, December 1997, as the Hale-Bopp comet fades from the sky and the thirty-nine bodies in matching Nikes of the Heaven's Gate cult are still fresh in the national mind.A Dinner, where my mother gathers reports from her children, one by one, while I sip vodka. Neat.A Card Game during the Ice Storm of '98 — cooped-up family, three days, no power, liquor, and a rule: ya gotta drink.And a Cadenza for the End of Time. Where I finally ask the question I couldn't ask as a kid.I'm Johnny Profane Âû. Autistic poet and spoken word performer, diagnosed at 63. Now in my 70s. I've been making work that refuses to be packaged since 2019.This piece is from my chapbook: every clock is a handgun pointed at my head: songs of autistic innocence...and experience. Available on Amazon — link below. 📖 Get the chapbook: [AMAZON LINK]📬 Full text + newsletter: [SUBSTACK LINK]🔔 Hit the bell. New pieces drop when they're ready.💬 Drop a comment: How complex was your family history as a neurodivergent person? What refuges did you find? Chapters 0:10 — Cold Open0:21 — Content Note0:45 — Intro1:58 — Prelude / Establishing Shot3:55 — Dinner Music / Point-of-View Shot7:39 — Interlude / Flash Cut9:53 — Cadenza for the End of Time / Extreme Wide Panning Shot11:20 — Outro / Parting Shot #ActuallyAutistic #SpokenWord #ReligiousTrauma #AutisticPoetry #LateAutismDiagnosis #AutisticElders #HeavensGate #AutismAcceptance #NeurodivergentPoetry #AutisticAF This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    11 min

  3. 11 FEB

    7 Autistic Decades. I'm Still Driven. What If I NEVER Get “There...”?

    Still driven to matter. Desperately. Almost 73. And I can’t unwind… busted springs, broken dancer in a jewel box. This piece isn’t an answer. It’s an accusation. And underneath? A terrified question I can’t stop asking. Is listening more your thing? Hit the play icon ▶️ on the player above. Or pick your app: Apple, Spotify, Overcast, YouTube. {Music} Intro You're listening to AutisticAF Out Loud. One voice. Raw. Real. Fiercely Neurodivergent. One autistic elder’s truth. I’m Johnny Profane. Content Note: language, psych ward experiences, childhood sexual & emotional abuse, intergenerational family harm + opinions & experiences of one autistic elder. It’s everywhere. Every where I go anyways. I’m chatting with this young professional couple ahead of me in a line. Maybe, grad students…? This long, Walmart self-checkout is just brimming with fresh faces this August. There’s an awkward break… like always in these in-line chats. Like we’re para-neighbors or something. So… I’ve gotten used to a little stimming while I wait. In the silence, I arch my back backwards then I drop my head toward the floor… Breathe out, relax, straighten up, and… They’re staring. Four eyes blinking through glasses. Two mouths open. I… I… think a moment. Running through possible causes for those gawking faces. Then, I get it. “Oh… Oh that.” I slip into my little canned moment. “Ya see, I’m autistic. I know. I don’t look like autistic. I’m old.” [Chuckle.] “But if I say… or do something… that seems, well, odd? Just let me know.” You could see it instantly. I went from bizarre, possibly fiercesome alien to… cute, harmless, possibly lovable, old oddball. A blink or two… from each. The guy, in the designer hoodie, waves back and forth between himself and the young woman. “Oh, we get it.” A bit more waving. “We love ‘Love on the Spectrum.’ Never miss it.” To my credit, I manage a… thin smile, with a little mock hand-waving and a quiet, “Yeah, doggie.” Shortly, they leave the store, waving back at me. And I wave back. It’s more like they have a cute para-social crush on an idea… of autism. But I’m thinking… That show… and that couple’s genuine attempt to connect? They’re something… for now. I guess… But I’ve been obsessing about stereotypes lately. Like everybody suddenly knows the real me cuz they read an article on Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism… TV viewers? None of them know me. It’s more like they have a cute para-social crush on an idea… of autism. I try to bear in mind I may be going through a phase ... [laffs] But… I am autistic + ADHD here. Turning 73, come June. I want you to know this reality… my personal reality. But shared by too many other neurodivergents. I’ll never know what it means to grow up withoutsensory, physical, emotional, and sexual trauma from…family, teachers, playmates, care-taking professionals,the occasional stranger. I’ll never know a life without repeated psych ward stays. So… it just may not be autism that blocks my dreams… Ya know? Just stick a pin in that thought for a moment. We’ll circle back, after a bit… after I speak my piece… “What… would I be… then…?” Like most humans, I grapple with dreams… I will never realize in this life... nearing its end. Dreams that wind my clock. The biggest? The gut-wrenching need to matter... Less noble? My yearning for fame & recognition. I fear letting that dream go. Cuz what… would I be… then...? This piece isn’t an answer. It’s an accusation. And I can guaran-damn-tee you it’ll never stream on Netflix. I call it… LETTING GO Being born left its markThat’s how I came to fear the dark... Far back as i know I fear letting goAlways scouting for that shortcutI fear letting goCareening towards god knows whatFearing letting goDark lightning in my gutFrom fear of letting go Letting goLetting goGod i need To let go… Everybody knowsI need to let go. All life longDrempt damned dreams The kind that get you reborn,To be big, to be… known.As this long life, this dream… endsI fear letting goCuz what would I… be… then? Been saying latelyGot to unwind… Twist. Got the heart… not the chopsI got to unwindUnwind… Twist. Need a dream detoxGot to unwind Un Wind… Twist. Click… Busted springs andBroken dancer in a jewel box. Good gawd almightyI gots to unwind. Sleepwalking in the moist dark nightA toddler memory, I feared a lightShadowed crack under mommy’s doorGroans, cries, sighs… moreThen...Turning a knob on forbidden sightDaddy’s rage, a parasiteCrawling… gnawing my insides That night I first feared the light. Black thunder in a winter stormI fear the trembling light Mantra falling in a mind at warTerrified of that lightFear that light Fear that light I fear that lightMore than psych ward nightI fear that blinding light Being born left its markThat’s how I came to fear the dark... But waking, startled, late in lifeI came to cower… at the light. Ok. What I feel… what I experience inside? Or what other autistic adults may feel? It ain’t something you’ll ever binge on Netflix. No camera films what’s inside us. So, unpin that thought I asked you to save… about blocked dreams. Let’s just circle back. It ain’t autism. Or ADHD. Or any other neurological difference that blocks our dreams. Even those that are so different from yours. I don’t believe ANY of this 7 decades of trauma…familial disappointment…social judgment…failure… pain… Had anything to do with my own inborn genetics... nature... Or Mommy’s fucking Tylenol. But, and… here’s the hope,the meaning,the good part… Based on the joyful thingsI could say,did do,did experience,do share…even against all the barriers human culture has ever erectedFor me… for all neurodivergents… I can not imagine the joy thatfuture neurodivergent kids could have a shot at... If “They” stop trying to “cure” our natural behaviors that annoy... or frighten… only “Them.” And start supporting the natures and gifts we do possess. From the moment we come naked into this world. I can NOT imagine what our kids could say, do, experience… in that future world. Thank you so much for giving me your time, my friends. And the space to sputter my rage into. {Music} CHAPTERS: 0:00 — Cold Open0:27 — Intro / Content Note0:57 — It’s Everywhere5:16 — Letting Go (poem)8:19 — Ok. What I feel… what I experience inside?9:21 — But, and… Here’s the good part10:31 — Thank you so much for giving me your time More Spoken Word: I share more pieces like this at AutisticAF Out Loud on Substack Get the Chapbook: every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, art, poetry, and raw neurodivergent truth. Thirteen pieces. One autistic life, unfiltered. Available on Amazon Subscribe to AutisticAF Out Loud... free or paid... and get the full PDF in your inbox. On me. One-time support for my work here: · Paypal · Facebook Pay “Johnny Knapp Âû”· Ko-Fi About This Work: Johnny (Knapp) Profane Âû spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day in 2022 about his illustrations rooted in neurodivergence. Published in Wordgathering (journal of disability poetry & literature), Neuroclastic, and Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism. In a former life, founding publisher of Unix World magazine. Living in rural Indiana in a trailer across the courtyard from his wife. With his 2 dogs, cat, and an unwavering commitment to raising hell, autistic style.​ #ActuallyAutistic #SpokenWord #DisabilityPoetry #NeurodivergentArt #AuDHD #MentalHealthAwareness #AutisticAF #AutisticElder #LateAutismDiagnosis Connect: * Drop a comment — Do you experience barriers to realize your dreams? Do you rush from goal to goal… fearing letting go? Do you find meaningful accommodation for your differences in your job or career ? * Hit the “follow” bell for new releases Thanks for reading #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter! Algorithms are not kind to neurodivergent voices. If this hit home? Please share to get the word out. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    11 min

  4. 4 FEB

    Autistic in a Sea of Faceless Ghosts… I Still Want to Remember You

    Note to long-time subscribers: You’re seeing this one again cuz I’ve given the original video a serious makeover. Then tucked it into a small archive of live spoken word pieces, for the newer folks these raw pieces brought to our strange little corner of the internet. _____ Someone wrote me: “These knocked me sideways… I spent so much time as an undiagnosed autistic girl, wondering if I was the alien dropped among the normies.” I can’t see faces. When I try to remember someone… even my wife… I see a shifting, indistinct swirl of features. This piece,” “A Swirl of Flesh-Colored Fog,” is about wanting to be friends. Struggling with that simple human desire… when your brain doesn’t work the way the world expects. No clinical terms. No inspiration porn. What it’s like. I don’t need diagnosed. I need appreciated for who I am. Yeah, I know the diagnostic term. Prosopagnosia. Let’s just say I’m not into masking behind tongue-twisting gig latin. Or symptom lists… that are stereotypes, in the end. Imagine my brief career as a salesman. Now… imagine a couple of lost marriages. I don’t need diagnosed. I need appreciated for who I am. How about you? Content Note: opinions & experiences of one autistic elder. Full Text Transcript. Friends? Finally late in life, I got friends… and love. And this last one is a selfie of what that’s like for me. I call it… A Swirl of Flesh-Colored Fog “Ya gotta minute?” She takes a quick scan of the aisles. Then toward the eternal sale table near the entrance. Pink and blue signs promising, “Two… If you buy just one…” It’s silent. Just me standing in front of her. Bottle of the Coke Zero I’m addicted to in my hand. Dusk. Rural Indiana. I guess the local beef cattlemen, horsey folks, and military munitions testers up at Crane Naval Base? They don’t hit Dollar General so much around sundown. “Sure,” she says. “Nobody much comes in around now. Z’up… you good?” I take a beat. To use my words… to find my words. “I’m trying to remember all you guys’… um, ya know, everybody’s names….” “Oh, no worries. You’re good. We really all should have name badges.” I take another beat. To switch appropriate gears. “No. You know. The autism thing. I have this face and name thing. It’s weird… but I can’t remember faces.” Awkward… awkward pause. If you’re listening to this, if you’re reading… Let me try to take you inside. My being… What’s that like? I only see… Well, words fail me. Take a visit to Walmart. Just a sea of faceless ghosts. Folks I greet, “I… I kn-know you… I have this thing. Can you tell me your name again?” Embarrassment. Stammering apologies… See, it’s like this… A swirl of flesh-colored fogThat’s my wife’s face in dreamsI only see her walking awayA grey ponytail… tattered jeans Love of my life… can’t see her…Not her green eyes… in stage makeup…Just homemade tats… the shape of her hair…Feelings,memories…talking after that breakup… So, I’m back talking to that DG clerk. “We don’t get out much. You guys? I… I guess it’s a job. But to us? You’re… well, friends. It means something to me. To learn your name. To… know you.” It means something to me. To remember your names. And… faces. “Oh.” Confused, she pauses. “It’s really ok. We know you and your wife. We get it.” “You know?” I’m urgent. I want her to get… I want her to get the weight of it. “It’s not for you. It’s for me. It means something to me. To remember your names. And… and put them with your faces. To be… friends.” I flash on all those parental commands to, “Make friends!” Then I say, “I just won’t get it right… right away. But I want to enjoy… doing it.” Silence. Awkward. But intimate. I stammer. “Are you… are you, uh, Ari?” When confused, my go-to fallback is details. “No, no, she’s the… she’s the short blond one.” She waves her right hand about shoulder high. “I know Kensington… cuz well I walked in on her anaphylactic…. Ya know, allergy attack. Over in the Dollar Aisle.” “Yeah. She’s the short one with black hair.” She gestures with her right hand again, just a hair lower. “And… and I’m Cyndi.” We laugh. Together. She mentions the name tags again. I make reassuring noises. “That’s Windy, right?” “No.” She laughs. “Cyndi… Just with the I and Y… reversed.” “Oh, thank god. For a moment I misremembered again. Thought you were named after that sappy 60s song.” She laughs, easy… again. “No, never that.” We share a wink. A nod. The doors slide… I walk outside. Cyndi. Just with the I and the Y… reversed. A swirl of flesh-colored fog. Framed by glasses. And twisted brown hair up on her head. About… yay… tall. CHAPTERS: 0:00 — Friends? Finally late in life…0:23 — Dollar General, sundown1:54 — Let me take you inside2:32 — “A Swirl of Flesh-Colored Fog”5:35 — About… yay… tall More Spoken Word: I share more pieces like this at AutisticAF Out Loud on Substack:https://johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/p/spoken-word-poetry Get the Chapbook: every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, art and poetry collection available on Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/every-clock-handgun-pointed-head-ebook/dp/B0FNLHC6SY Subscribers… free or paid… receive a free PDF of this neurodivergent art & poetry collection by email. About This Work: Johnny (Knapp) Profane Âû spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day in 2022 about his illustrations rooted in neurodivergence. Published in Wordgathering (journal of disability poetry & literature), Neuroclastic, and Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism. In a former life, founding publisher of Unix World magazine. Living in rural Indiana in a trailer across the courtyard from his wife. With his 2 dogs, cat, and an unwavering commitment to raising hell, autistic style.​ #SpokenWord #ActuallyAutistic #DisabilityPoetry #NeurodivergentArt #MentalHealthAwareness Connect: * Drop a comment — Do you struggle to remember faces? Or yearn for connection your brain won’t let you have? * Hit the “follow” bell for new releases This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    6 min

  5. 26 JAN

    This Autistic Elder Looks Back… without Shame

    If you’re drawn to the raw experience born of neurodivergence, disability, trauma… or just honest storytelling that doesn’t sanitize the hard parts… Maybe this one’s for you. With full transcript, video, original artwork. Family leaves marks on you. Some visible, some not. Hell, just breathing-while-autistic… in the adult world… does a number. “Couldn’t you at least make it, Profano?” says my wife-to-be. Adding, “Who wants to be called ‘Profane??’” Conversations about changing my last name… I mean, who knew it was supposed to be a “couples conversation”? Not this smartass, but-naive-as-hell, 58-year-old autist. Not sitting on someone else’s couch. That we happen to be surfing in a backwoods Greene County, Indiana cabin. Um. I guess, my bad. But…I was busy reeling from losing my fourth or fifth career, estrangement from my family of origin, a forced 700-mile relocation… by bus… to Indiana,my new relationship with my future wife and family,joblessness, and homelessness…in under 6 months. And I never did the whole unspoken-rule thing well. Ya know, auDHD? So really not on my best game that day. I’m not ashamed. I’m not broken… “I gotta make a br-break,” I start sputtering. “They’ll tell themselves stories. They’ll make up shit. M-Make me a demon.” “They?” Her eyebrow arches. The eyebrow that raised 7 kids. This is 2011. I don’t have enough words in that moment to tell her who “they” are. Pretty much every relationship, teacher, job, and cause I’d walked out of. In my already long, getting-longer-fast life. “I’m not ashamed. I’m not broken. I don’t have a fucking clue where I’m headed. But this is who I am. I gotta own… my self.” I kinda hear myself say that. Out loud. Catches me up short. Then, after a thoughtful beat, I mutter, “Right in their faces.” My wife has a bit to say. About changing her name to “Profane.” I have a bit too much to say in my dig-in-my-heels response. We had some wild moments back then… After a few months, I went the stagename route, Johnny Profane. Kept the potential marriage alive through compromise. But still managed to keep the “in their faces” intact. Cuz family… and the life after… leave marks on you. Some visible. Some not. I choose to wear them in plain sight… Shamelessly. I choose to wear them in plain sight…Shamelessly. This piece is what it means to me to live without apology. I got some things right, got some things wrong. And somehow kept stumbling forward anyways.​ This piece draws from real moments… scaling Mount Marcy the night Elvis died in 1977,leaving family behind 34 years later, complicated relationships that never quite resolve. I was finally diagnosed autistic at 63. It’s been almost 10 years. So I wrote this. Full Text Transcript. So I call this one, Shameless. Watch the 3+ minute performance (headphones recommended): Content Note: language, family estrangement, ableism, trauma, homelessness + opinions & experiences of one autistic elder. Shameless Live long enoughYa get a lot right,Get a lot wrong.Get to knowWell enoughYa can’t be a saintLurking in shadow…Living life perfectlyShameless. Shameless?Oh let me beShameless…No sun setsOn a painless life,So no moon shinesOn a stainless wife.Oh let me be… comeShameless. Scaling Mount MarcyThat night as Elvis died,Got branded a MountebankAs my sister grew colder. Stalking Death ValleySame sister… now dead… to meSame stars… chill my shouldersNow living life perfectlyShameless… Shameless.Oh let me beShameless…No peak capsAn aimless life,And no grave ever filledBy a blameless knife.Oh let me be… comeShameless. No mask hidesThe pain in life,So no words canExplain my fight.So, let me Be… come…Shameless. Fadeout I hate it. I love that one… That’s the whole thing, isn’t it. Living with both at once. CHAPTERS: 0:00 — Introduction0:11 — Shameless (the poem begins) MORE SPOKEN WORD: I share more pieces like this at AutisticAF Out Loud on Substack: https://johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/p/spoken-word-poetry GET THE CHAPBOOK: “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head” — art and poetry collection available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/every-clock-handgun-pointed-head-ebook/dp/B0FNLHC6SY ABOUT THIS WORK Johnny (Knapp) Profane Âû spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day in 2022 about his illustrations rooted in neurodivergence. Published in Wordgathering (journal of disability poetry & literature), Neuroclastic, and Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism. In a former life, founding publisher of Unix World magazine. Living in rural Indiana in a trailer across the courtyard from his wife. With his 2 dogs, cat, and an unwavering commitment to raising hell, autistic style.​ #SpokenWord #DisabilityPoetry #AutisticPoet #NeurodivergentArt #FamilyTrauma #AutisticAF #PoetryPerformance #MentalHealthAwareness #ActuallyAutistic #RawPoetry Connect: * Drop a comment — What does family life look like for you? * Hit the “follow” bell for new releases #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click for a free subscription to receive new posts… and a free PDF of my Amazon chapbook of poetry. To support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Support AutisticAF.me here: Paypal · Ko-Fi · Facebook Pay “Johnny Knapp Âû” https://ko-fi.com/autisticaf This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    2 min

  6. 16 JAN

    On Autistic Burnout: "Believe I'll Ch-Ch-Change... My Shirt"

    Intro Someone said an average writer “borrows.” The other kinds, both kinds... steal out right. Bowie, Robert Johnson, Marvin Gaye. I owe you guys one for this. Believe I’ll Ch-Ch-Change… My Shirt. Sunlight cracks my window, Gotta be midday. Kick myself a pathway Just to pee into the bowl. Like a peek into that deepest hole, Zombie in the Mirror won’t let me look away — Same filthy shirt as yesterday, Body and soul. I Gotta Change. They say, “Ya gotta ch-ch-change. New day’s a-coming. Cuz that same old, It’s getting fucking old.” They say, “Shed that old skin For one of truest gold…” I. Gotta. Change. Believe I’ll ch-ch-change My… Shirt. Karma’s a bitch dog, in heat. She prowls my old mind, Sleeps beside me every night… Feasting on defeats. No stone blocks this empty tomb But I can’t leave her behind... Memories of the darkest kind Blind my way outta this room... T H A T change I can not make— Faced all the strange this heart can take… I gotta change… I gotta change… I gotta change… I. Gotta. Change. Believe I’ll ch-ch-change My… Shirt. Break it down… I believe, I believe, I’ll go back home. I believe, I believe, I’ll go back home. You can't mistreat me here, babe, But you can when I get home… Waitress smiles, checkout jokes… shoplifting contact with little hope casual chic in the cubicle hoarding freak in the domicile Molestation devastation Frustration infestation losing jobs taking jabs Meltdown, shutdown… losing your shit Choose the label for your best fit Can’t see the forest For the leaves, That’s what’s brought me To my knees… New day’s never coming. And that same old, Got fucking older. I yearn to shed that old skin I crave that shiny gold… I. Gotta. Change. Believe I’ll ch-ch-change My… Shirt. Man I feel the drama today. Hope you guys can handle it. Massive shoutout to artists I stole quotes from… David Jones, known to the world as David Bowie for “Changes,” that he released in 1972. And to blues genius Robert Johnson for “Dust My Broom,” released in 1937. And as always to Marvin Gaye, for his soul… invisible but always there. * More Live Autistic Spoken Word Bio Johnny (Knapp) Profane Âû is an auDHD spoken word poet, blogger, podcaster… sometime cosplaying Pretend Rock Star. Diagnosed autistic at 63, he’s published AutisticAF Out Loud since 2019… a raw, fiercely neurodivergent voice. His spoken word piece, “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head,” appeared in Wordgathering, a journal of disability poetry & literature. In 2022, he spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day on his illustrations rooted in neurodivergence. Neuroclastic, Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, and other sites have featured his work since 2019. In an earlier life, he was founding publisher of Unix World magazine in 1984. Johnny lives in a rural Indiana trailer… next to his wife’s trailer… with his dogs & cat. Occasionally he shaves… to face Walmart. “I’m autistic. Born 1953.I was not a product of a vaccine.I was not born to be pitied.I was born to raise Hell.Autistic style.I’m not out to inspire you.I’m out to give youan experience..of a life.” “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head,” art & poetry collection. available on Amazon. Connect: * Share your burnout experiences below * Hit the bell for new releases #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click below to receive new posts & free PDF of full Amazon collection… free. To support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    4 min

  7. 14 JAN

    "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head"

    Full Spoken Word Transcript My time, it can’t be measured. Not a dimension. It’s a force. A violent force. every clock is a handgun pointed at my head III Every clock is a handgun pointed at my headEvery tick, tick… fucking tickTolling Fear, Doom… dreadClick. Slide. Cock… click. Every night a mantra echoes through my headTV static… a crazy-making humSinging Dream, Drempt… dead…Not done. Not done. Not done… undone. 10, 9, 8… Dread7, 6, 5… Fear4, 3, 2… BEEP.Shoot the moon… or the country next doorCountdown. Deadline. Bow down… dead. Bound behind doors, bound in my headPace, paces, pacing… pacedEvery BEEP.Of the phone.Stops…my heart....I crash out with a scream for escape II Woods Deep woods Deepest woods My ears flyfrom bird songto bird song. A raptor circles then spiralsCrossing lines now dead Wind steals my breathTaking words never said This skin bag of atmosphereBreathes new air When the sun risesFirst it is coolThen it gets warmThe day passes Clouds above my head.Shaped by wind Outside my bodyThe same wind Inside my bodyThesameWind Yet… I 10, 9, 8… Dread7, 6, 5… Fear4, 3, 2… BEEP.Shoot the moon… or the country next doorCountdown. Deadline. Bow down… dead. Every clock is a handgun pointed at my head zero * More Live Autistic Spoken Word Bio Johnny (Knapp) Profane Âû is an auDHD spoken word poet, blogger, podcaster… sometime cosplaying Pretend Rock Star. Diagnosed autistic at 63, he’s published AutisticAF Out Loud since 2019… a raw, fiercely neurodivergent voice. His spoken word piece, “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head,” appeared in Wordgathering, a journal of disability poetry & literature. In 2022, he spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day on his illustrations rooted in neurodivergence. Neuroclastic, Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, and other sites have featured his work since 2019. In an earlier life, he was founding publisher of Unix World magazine in 1984. Johnny lives in a rural Indiana trailer… next to his wife’s trailer… with his dogs & cat. Occasionally he shaves… to face Walmart. “I’m autistic. Born 1953.I was not a product of a vaccine.I was not born to be pitied.I was born to raise Hell.Autistic style.I’m not out to inspire you.I’m out to give youan experience..of a life.” “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head,” art & poetry collection. available on Amazon. Connect: * Share your time anxiety experiences below * Hit the bell for new releases #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click below to receive new posts & free PDF of full Amazon collection… free. To support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    4 min

  8. 31/12/2025

    Autistic Elder on this Moment...? “Slouching toward Montauk”

    Intro My grandfather was a… complex man.He slept beside an orderly nightstand.Tucking Mein Kampf tightIn its tidy drawer every night. And… He used to take me sailing. {Silence} Is listening more your thing? Hit the headphone icon 🎧 on the player at top. Or pick your app: Apple, Spotify, Overcast, YouTube. Content Note: This piece addresses troubling family history and inherited complexity. I call this one… Slouching Toward Montauk ... Let’s say… I’m in my 70s now. Happiest time of my autistic life. Not too worried about some fabulous unachievable autistic Nirvana… These days… Now, here’s that story. My grandfather was a… complex man.He slept beside an orderly nightstand.Tucking Mein Kampf tightIn its tidy drawer every night. And… He used to take me sailing out to Montauk Point… a sea journey from Bay Shore, Long Island… at least as he sailed it on the ocean side… swinging out into the deep water… In his telling, it was a fabulous place.Where a sandstone lighthouse lit the waves, warning of danger.Where the grass on the golf course grew sideways.And every single damn tree bowed toward the West…From the eternal wind blowing onshore.His heaven on earth, he called it…... The wind carries all the sound away…But its roar in my earscreates a kind of hushed silenceinside me..I always experience high anxietyas we lose sight of the shore.Just sky, waves & constant rolling…Disoriented.Like a whiteout in a blizzard.If you throw in some seasickness.But after an hour or so, I make my way to the prow. And sit. Wind on my faceSun on my bodySalt breeze filling my chest…Quieting my heart. Anxiety? Disorientation? I observeThe fixed lighthouseIn the far off dusk.Splashing its light… bravelyInto the spray.Knowing deepIn its softNative sandstone heart…Time and tide wait for it....I stop caring about the shoreline. And the anxious Hell waiting for me on the other side. For hours at a time.....Who cares about sailing toward Montaukand its fabulous trees…anymore…Or... ever again?I’m busy breathing in… this fabulous moment here More autistic spoken word: If this resonated for you, I share more pieces like this on AutisticAF Out Loud. Connect: * Drop a comment… How complex was your family history for you as a neurodivergent? * What refuges did you find? * Hit the “follow” bell for new releases Get the Chapbook: every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, art, poetry, and raw neurodivergent truth. Thirteen pieces. One autistic life, unfiltered. Available on Amazon Subscribe to AutisticAF Out Loud… free or paid… and get the full PDF in your inbox. On me. #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter: One Voice. Raw. Real. Fiercely Autistic. Subscribe free to receive new autistic spoken‑word & essays… and instantly get my “thank you” gift: a free PDF of my poetry & art chapbook, every clock is a handgun pointed at my head Thanks for reading #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter! The algorithm hates me. I must be doing something right… so feel free to share it. I’m an autistic poet and spoken word performer, diagnosed at 63. Now in my 70s. I’ve been publishing AutisticAF Out Loud since 2019… work that refuses to be packaged. My spoken word piece , every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, was published in Wordgathering, a journal of disability poetry & literature. In 2022, I spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day about my illustration work rooted in autism & ADHD. I live in a rural Indiana trailer… across the courtyard from my wife’s trailer… with my 2 dogs & cat. Occasionally I shave… to face Walmart. The algorithms hate me. I must be doing something right. #SpokenWord #AutismAcceptance #AutisticPoetry #Mindfulness #AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts free, click the link below. To support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Support AutisticAF.me with a one-time tip here: · Paypal · Ko-Fi · Facebook Pay “Johnny Knapp Âû” This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

    4 min
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About

One Voice... Raw. Real. Fiercely Autistic. johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com

Information

  • Creator
    Johnny Profane (Knapp Âû)
  • Years Active
    2021 - 2026
  • Episodes
    73
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Johnny Profane (Knapp Âû)
  • Show Website
    #AutisticAF Out Loud