Another Neurodivergent Queer Writes A Blog!

The Saguaro feels the pressure of the Sky, they always have, from the moment they first sprouted root into the Earth and raised themselves above ground.

“You’ll never push me hard enough,” said Saguaro in frustration after decades of the Sky’s weight. “I’ll never let you topple me! I’ll grow arms to steady myself, winds be damned!”

And to the Saguaro Sky replied with a gentle laugh, “But it is you who push against me, young one. Your defiance is what holds me up.”

“Then,” Saguaro shouted out, “I’ll grow these needles so that the support you obtain from me makes you bleed.”

Decades later, the Sky spoke to the Saguaro, asking, “Now that you have such strong needles, how do you like hosting the desert’s vulnerable?”

But the Saguaro made no reply, pretending as though they hadn’t heard for the intrusive bass of a resident dove’s every living moment.

But there was nothing to be said in any case, as in truth the Saguaro adores those who make their homes inside them. It would be decades yet before the Saguaro would admit to their old nemesis Sky that their attempt at punishment had turned them onto a life of purpose, or that giving refuge to the vulnerable was the most they could do to alleviate their own situation, vulnerable every moment to the capricious pressures of the Sky.