ace-pergers-pigeon:

I think the thing I loved most about Sir Terry Pratchett was that it always seemed like he had an unwavering sense of fairness. 

I have no idea how all the awful things going on in the world seem to people who aren’t autistic, or even how they seem to other autistic people. But the thing that always sticks in my guts and makes me want to scream is how horribly unfair all of it seems.

It’s not fair that some people are born with everything and others are supposed to survive on nothing. It’s not fair that disabled people have to do so much more than abled people just to be deemed valuable enough to exist. It’s not fair that some people have to power to do whatever they want to anyone without facing any consequences. 

And sometimes it feels like the world sees fairness as a childish idea. If I were to face the people continually fucking me over and tell them “that’s not fair” they would give a condescending look and tell me “life’s not fair”. We all got told that, over and over again when we were young. “Life’s not fair, and you should accept that and move on.” Again and again, stomping out that sense of justice and fairness a little bit at a time. 

But when I read the Discworld books, it felt like they were saying “Life’s not fair, and you should be angry about that.” Life’s not fair, so you have to kick and scream and dig in your heels and make it be fair. 

I never met the man personally, and I won’t pretend like I knew him, but he always seemed as angry as I was about unfairness. About poor people having to pay more than the rich to get by, about people who are different being treated like slime, about selfish people always having the upper hand. 

There’s a bit in the Hogfather where Death talks about mercy and justice. He says to “take the universe and grind it down to the finest powder and sieve it through the finest sieve, and show me one atom of Justice, one molecule of Mercy.” He says that justice and mercy are not part of the universe, that there is no higher sense of fairness that will balance everything out in the end. And that’s why it’s our job to be fair. To be just, and merciful. Because if we don’t believe in those things, then how can they ever exist? If we give up on those things, how can we ever expect life to be better for anyone? 

Sir Terry Pratchett is no longer with us, and that feels horribly, heart-wrenchingly, unbearably unfair sometimes. I would give absolutely anything to have him back in the world, to have the chance to meet him just once and tell him how frighteningly dark the future seemed to a depressed, autistic teenager when I read his work for the first time. That he gave me a little bit of hope to cling onto. 

It’s 10am, and I’m grieving for a man I never met, who died four years ago, because life is strange. I like to think he’d appreciate that. Goodbye Sir Terry, thank you for everything