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‼️PLEASE REPOST‼️ autism 🌈♾️ ADHD 🌈🦋 OCD 🌈⏳ GAD 🌈💭 BPD 🌈🐞 depression 🌈; panic disorder 🌈‼️ NPD 🌈👑 AvPD 🌈🦉 MDD 🌈☔ tourette 🌈💥 kleptomania 🌈🛍️ narcolepsy 🌈💤 dyslexia 🌈🐇 sensory disorder 🌈⚙️ down 🌈🧬 DID/OSDD 🌈👥 pyromania 🌈🔥 despersonalization 🌈👁️ desrealization 🌈🌐 hypersexuality 🌈❤️‍🔥 hemophobia 🌈🩸 ASPD 🌈🔪 dyscalculia 🌈🟰 bipolar 🌈:(: pica 🌈🌷 MADD 🌈🌙 BED 🌈🍳 CLS 🌈🐺 EDD 🌈🐍 PTSD 🌈🧠 APD 🌈👂 psychosis 🌈✨ PPD 🌈🙇 HSP 🌈🎧 echolalia 🌈🗣️

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‼🏼️P🏼LEASE REPOST‼🏼️ autism 🌈♾️ ADHD 🌈🦋 OCD 🌈⏳ GAD 🌈💭 BPD 🌈🐞 depression 🌈; panic disorder 🌈‼️ NPD 🌈👑 AvPD 🌈🦉 MDD 🌈☔ tourette 🌈💥 kleptomania 🌈🛍️ narcolepsy 🌈💤 dyslexia 🌈🐇 sensory disorder 🌈⚙️ down 🌈🧬 DID/OSDD 🌈👥 pyromania 🌈🔥 despersonalization 🌈👁️ desrealization 🌈🌐 hypersexuality 🌈❤️‍🔥 hemophobia 🌈🩸 ASPD 🌈🔪 dyscalculia 🌈🟰 bipolar 🌈:(: pica 🌈🌷 MADD 🌈🌙 BED 🌈🍳 CLS 🌈🐺 EDD 🌈🐍 PTSD 🌈🧠 APD 🌈👂🏼 psychosis 🌈✨ PPD 🌈🙇🏼 HSP 🌈🎧 echolalia 🌈🗣️

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vii (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's mind is racing, his heart thumping in his chest. He had never seen Plankton like this, and the sudden change was unnerving. "What happened to make you so..." he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. Plankton's smile broadens, his hands continuing their flapping dance. "Good book," he repeats. "Best friend." He pats the bed again, his gesture urging Sponge Bob to sit closer. Sponge Bob does, his gaze still locked on Plankton's. "But what happened?" he presses, his voice filled with concern. "You've never been this... this... affectionate before." Plankton's hands stop their flapping, his antennas drooping slightly. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes search his friend's, his concern growing with each repetition. "But Plankton, what's really going on?" he asks, his voice filled with urgency. "You've never talked like this before." Plankton's smile wavers, his hand reaching for the book. "Read," he says, his voice a monotone. "Happy book." Sponge Bob's eyes dart between Plankton's and the complex text before him. "But Plankton, I don't know what this means." Plankton's smile fades, his hands stilled. He looks at Sponge Bob with an unblinking stare, his mind racing. "Friend," he says, his voice flat. "Best friend." His gaze drops to the book, then back to Sponge Bob's face. "Read," he instructs, his tone firm. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, the weight of Plankton's stare heavy on his shoulders. He opens the book to a random page. "Ok," he says, his voice shaking slightly. "I'll try." He starts from the top, his pronunciation awkward and stilted. "Quantum Mechanics," he reads, his eyes squinting at the text. Sponge Bob's voice falters, the complexity of the words tripping his tongue. "Plankton, I don't understand any of this," he says, his voice filled with frustration. Plankton's eye widen, his smile fading. "Friend," he repeats, his voice strained. "Best friend." He grabs the book from Sponge Bob's hands, his movements suddenly frantic. "Read," he says, his voice a mix of desperation and joy. "Good book." Sponge Bob's heart races as he watches his friend's erratic behavior. He knows something is seriously off, but he's not sure what. "Plankton What's going on with you?" Plankton's smile flickers back, his hands stilling. He looks at Sponge Bob, his gaze intense. "Read," he repeats. "Best friend read." Sponge Bob nods, his throat tight. He tries again, his voice more confident this time. "Quantum Mechanics," he repeats. Plankton's smile brightens, his hands resuming their flutter. "Good," he says, his voice a monotone cheer. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's heart aches with concern, but he continues to read, hoping to find some comfort in the words for his friend. "Quantum Entanglement," he murmurs, his eyes scanning the page for any sign of understanding. Plankton's flapping grows more intense, his body rocking back and forth with excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes widen as he notices Plankton's erratic behavior, but he keeps reading, his voice steady and calm. "The universe," he says, his eyes skimming the page, "is a strange and wondrous place." Plankton's eye light up, his hands flapping rapidly. "Wondrous place," he echoes, his voice mirroring Sponge Bob's. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy cheeks reddening. "You're saying the same thing I just said," he points out, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton nods vigorously, his hands fluttering in the air. "You're saying same thing," he says, his voice a cheerful mimic of Sponge Bob's. "Wondrous place. Saying the same thing just said.." "Plankton," SpongeBob says, his voice urgent. "What's going on with you?" Plankton's smile is wide, but his gaze is distant, as if he's somewhere else entirely. "You're saying the same thing," he echoes again, his hands flapping in a rhythmic pattern that matches his words. Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "Plankton," he says, his voice strained. "You're just repeating me." He pauses, trying to gauge his friend's reaction. Plankton nods, his smile still in place. "Yes," he says, his voice a copy of Sponge Bob's. "You're repeating." His hands flap with excitement. Sponge Bob's concern grows, his eyes searching Plankton's for any sign of distress. "But why, Plankton?" he asks, his voice soft with worry. Plankton's smile falters, his hands stopping mid-flap. "But why?" he repeats, his voice a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's. "You're copying me," he says. "Why are you copying everything I say?" Plankton's eye refocus on Sponge Bob's face, his smile returning. "You're copying me why are you copying everything I say." Plankton echoed. Sponge Bob's trying to find a reason behind the behavior. "I'm asking you what's going on!" Plankton nods, his antennae waving slightly. "SpongeBob asking me what's going on," he mimics. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his heart racing. "Plankton," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "This isn't funny. What's really happening?" "This isn't funny," he echoes Sponge Bob's tone. "What's happening?" Sponge Bob's heart sinks. "Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. "What's wrong with you?" Plankton's eye locked on Sponge Bob's. "Wrong with Plankton," he echoes. "What's wrong?" Sponge Bob's voice trembles as he speaks. "You're not acting like yourself," he says, his heart pounding. "You're just repeating everything I say." "You're repeating everything I say," he says, his voice a mirror. "Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. "Please, tell me what's going on." "Please tell me what's going on," he repeats, his voice a perfect match to Sponge Bob's. "You tell me." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of fear and desperation. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice trembling. "You're just repeating everything I say." He takes a deep breath, his mind racing to understand his friend's sudden change. Plankton's smile is unwavering, his hands still fluttering. "You're just repeating everything," he echoes. "I say." His voice is calm, his movements methodical. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of his friend. "Please, Plankton," he begs, his voice cracking with anger. But Plankton's response is only more of the same, his words a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's plea. "Please, Plankton," he repeats, his voice a mirror of pain. "Please.." "This isn't right," he says, his voice filled with frustration. "You're not acting normal." Plankton's smile falters for a moment, his hands stilling. "Not normal," he repeats, his voice a hollow echo. "You not acting right." Sponge Bob's frustration boils over. "I'm not the one who's changed!" he exclaims, his voice loud. "You're the one who's been acting weird and repeating everything I say!" "You're the one who's changed," he echoes, his voice still calm. "Weird. Repeating." Sponge Bob's anger flares, his spongy fists clenching. "No, Plankton!" he says, his voice rising. "You're the one who's different! You're not the same as before!" Plankton's smile fades, his hands coming to a halt. His gaze meets Sponge Bob's with a flicker of understanding. "Different," he says, his voice a flat echo. "Not same." Sponge Bob's anger turns to desperation. "What happened to you?" he asks, his voice cracking. "Why are you doing this?" Plankton's gaze is unyielding, his smile a forced imitation of happiness. "You doing this," he repeats, his voice a monotone. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with anger. "What are you talking about?" he demands, his hands clenching into fists. "I haven't done anything!" Plankton's smile flickers, his gaze dropping to his book. "You haven't done anything," he echoes, his voice a mirror of Sponge Bob's anger. "I have." Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, his confusion turning to anger. "What are you saying?" he asks, his voice sharp. Plankton's hands resuming their flapping. "I have book," he says, his voice calmer. "Good book. Happy book." Sponge Bob's anger dissipates, his confusion deepening. "But Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "What's the book got to do with anything?" "Book," he repeats, his voice a monotone chant. "Book, book." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to anger, his eyes narrowing. "What is it with this book?" he demands, his voice tight. "What's so special about it?" Plankton's smile flickers, his hands pausing in their flapping. "You and book," he says, his voice a monotone whisper. "Makes Plankton happy." SpongeBob grabs Plankton's wrists to stop the flapping, making Plankton finally stop his repetitive chanting. "What's gotten into you?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice shaking with anger and concern. "Are you just messing with me?" Plankton's smile fades, his antennas drooping. "No mess," he says, his voice a sad echo. He tries to pull his hands free, but Sponge Bob's grip tightens. Sponge Bob's eyes bore into his friend's, searching for anything that might explain this strange behavior. "Then what is it, Plankton?" he asks, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "What's going on?" Plankton's gaze flickers with a hint of sadness. "Accident," he whispers, his voice a hollow echo, his body tense.

I’ᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴇʀᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ I’ʟʟ sʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ & ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴍ. I’ᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ- I ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ YᴏᴜTᴜʙᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ; I ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴅᴏɢ I sᴇᴇ; I ᴅᴀʏᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ… Bᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ? I’ᴍ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴛɪᴄ. I’ᴅ ɢʟᴏʙᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ ᴀs ᴀ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ. I ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇᴄᴀʟʟ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ғᴀᴄᴛs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏᴜs sᴀɪɴᴛs ʙᴜᴛ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ʜᴀᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ. I ʟᴀᴜɢʜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ. I’ᴍ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴛɪᴄ ᴅɪsᴏʀᴅᴇʀ. Iғ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴍ. Sᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴛɪᴄs ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ ɪɴ ғᴜʟʟ sᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇs, ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ I ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ I’ᴍ sᴀʏɪɴɢ. I ɢᴇᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴍᴇ. I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏs ᴀ ʀᴏʟʟ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴜɴɪɴᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ. Sᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴛɪᴄs ᴍᴀʏ ‘sᴛɪᴍ’ ᴏʀ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ɪɴ sᴇʟғ ᴘᴀᴄɪғʏɪɴɢ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏᴜʀs I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ I ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ sʜᴏᴡ ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ, sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ɢʟᴀɴᴄɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴏ sᴛᴇʀᴇᴏᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏᴜʀs. Bᴜᴛ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ‘ᴏʜ, ᴏᴋ, ɪᴛ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴs ɪᴛ’ I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴜᴅᴇ ᴏʀ ɪɴsᴇɴsɪᴛɪᴠᴇ. Tʜᴀɴᴋs ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! Aɴᴅ ɴᴏ, I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴜᴛɪsᴛɪᴄ ᴄᴏᴜsɪɴ. I ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴏʀᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ. I’ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴇ! Yᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ Bᴏᴏ

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 15 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! That same evening, Karen finds Krabs at the door. "What do you want?" She asks, her voice cool. But there's a desperation in his eyes that she's never seen before. "I-I want to talk to Plankton," he stammers. "I need to...apologize." Karen raises an eyebrow, surprise flickering across her screen. "What makes you think he'll want to talk to you?" Mr. Krabs' expression falls, his claws twitching nervously. "I know I've hurt him," he says, his voice cracking. "But I want to make it right." So he follows Karen in. Plankton sits in his room, his fidget toy clicking rhythmically. "Palilal...pali... lal...lal," he murmurs to the quiet space, as Karen and Krabs enter. The room's soft light highlights the intensity of his focus, his antennae twitching slightly with each word. Krabs watches him, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity. "What's going on, Plankton?" He asks. Plankton starts, his rhythm disrupted. He looks up, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "It's nothing," he says, his voice sharp. But Karen steps in, placing a gentle hand on Krabs' arm. "It's called echolalia," she explains softly. "It's a way for him to cope, to repeat words that have meaning to him. It's part of his autism." Krabs nods slowly, his expression still tinged with uncertainty. "I see," he says. "But I still need to apologize." Karen sighs, looking from Plankton to Krabs. "Fine," she says. "But you need to understand that Plankton's been through a lot today. Cut him some slack." Krabs nods again, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "I'm so sorry," he says, his voice quiet. "I had no idea that you were...going through this." Plankton's eye narrows, his grip on the fidget toy tightening. "What do you want, Krabs?" He asks, his voice low. "An award for finally noticing?" He snaps before turning his focus back to the fidget. Krabs steps closer, his movement slow and deliberate. "No, Plankton," he says, his voice earnest. "I want to make amends. To learn. To do better." But Plankton seems to ignore him. "Echo...echolal...lal...la," Plankton whispers, his gaze fixed on the fidget toy. The words come out in a soft, soothing rhythm, a secret language that only he understands. Krabs watches, his heart heavy. He's hurt Plankton before, but never has seen this. The room is silent, the only noise the faint click of the plastic pieces in Plankton's hand. Krabs takes a deep breath, trying to find the words to bridge the gap that's formed between them. "I didn't know," he says, his voice tentative. "I never knew you...you had autism." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye snapping up to meet Krabs' but he looks back down at his fidget toy, the rhythm of his murmurs increasing. "Echo...echolal...lal...la." Krabs fidgets, unsure of what to say. He's never seen Plankton like this before—so lost in his own world, so vulnerable. It's a stark contrast to the usual bravado and sarcasm that Plankton wields like a shield. "What does it mean?" He asks, his voice tentative. Plankton doesn't answer, the clicking of his fidget toy the only sound in the room. Krabs watches, his heart heavy with regret. He's always seen Plankton as a nuisance, someone to be defeated and humiliated. But now, he's just a small, hurt creature trying to make sense of a world that doesn't always make sense to him. "Uh, what about your arm Plankton?" "Echo...echolal...lal...la," Plankton repeats, his eye fixed on the fidget toy. The words roll off his tongue yet Krabs doesn't understand. Krabs' confusion grows as Plankton's murmurs fill the silence. It's a strange, almost hypnotic sound, a secret conversation that excludes everyone else. "What are you saying, Plankton?" He asks, his voice soft, tentative. But Plankton doesn't look up, lost in his own world of repetition and comfort. The words echo in the silence, a testament to his internal turmoil. "Echo... echolal...lal...la," he whispers, the fidget toy still clicking away. It's a self-soothing mechanism, a way to calm the storm in his brain. Krabs watches, his own mind racing. He's seen Plankton's quirks before, but this is something different. He's seen the anger, the sarcasm, the endless schemes. But this...this is Plankton's true self, raw and exposed. It's a side of him that no one ever gets to see other than Karen. The words keep coming, a stream of nonsense that seems to calm Plankton's racing thoughts. "Echo...echolal... lal...la," he murmurs, the rhythm never changing. Mr. Krabs feels like an intruder, watching a private moment he wasn't meant to see. Karen sighs, her hand moving to rest on Plankton's shoulder. "It's okay, honey," she says. But Plankton's focus is elsewhere, his eye glazed over. Krabs watches, his heart aching for the enemy he's hurt so many times. He's never seen this side of Plankton—the vulnerable, scared side that's now laid bare before him. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice trembling. "I didn't know." Plankton's murmurs continue, his fidget toy a blur of motion in his hand. "Echo...echolal... lal...la." The words come faster now, a staccato beat of his thoughts. It's as if he's talking in code, a language that only he can understand. Mr. Krabs feels like an outsider, a clumsy giant in a delicate world of patterns and repetition. Karen's hand on his shoulder doesn't move, a silent offer of comfort that Plankton doesn't seem to notice. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice calm and steady. "You're safe here." Plankton's murmurs become louder, the words tripping over each other. "Echo...echolal...lal... la...echolal...lal...la..." His grip on the fidget toy tightens, his body rocking slightly on his bed. Mr. Krabs' heart clenches at the sight, his mind racing with questions and concerns. He's never seen Plankton like this—so lost in his own thoughts, so detached from the world around him. It's as if his mind has retreated into itself, seeking refuge from the pain and confusion. The words are a lifeline, a way to find comfort in the chaos. Krabs watches, his own mind racing. What does it mean? What has he done to make Plankton feel this way? He knows he's hurt him before, but this is different. This is deeper, more profound. It's not just about stealing a secret formula or winning a contest. This is personal. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. What can he say to make this right? He's never faced a challenge like this, one that can't be solved with money or brawn. This requires understanding, empathy, and a willingness to learn. Krabs' eyes fill with tears as he watches Plankton's silent conversation with his fidget toy. "I-I just didn't know," he stammers. "I'll...I'll do better. I promise." But Plankton is lost in his own world, the words coming faster and faster. "Echo... echolal...lal...la...echolal... lal...la..." His voice rises in pitch, a frantic symphony of his inner thoughts. Karen's hand tightens on his shoulder, but Plankton seems oblivious to her touch. Krabs feels a pang of sorrow, his heart aching for the tiny creature in front of him. He's hurt him, and he's not sure how to fix it. "Plankton," he tries again, his voice gentler this time. "I'm here." But Plankton's world is one of repeating patterns and sounds, a place where the pain of the outside world can't reach him. "Echo...echolal...lal...la," he murmurs, the words tumbling out in a rush. It's a self-soothing mantra, a way to regain control in a world that feels out of control. Krabs' claws clench and unclench at his sides, his heart racing. He wants to help, but doesn't know how. He's always been so focused on the material, on winning, on defeating Plankton that he's never stopped to consider what's going on beneath the surface. He's never seen Plankton like this—so lost, so desperate. Krabs decides to try and connect. He clears his throat. "Plankton, what are you saying?" His voice is gentle, tentative, a stark contrast to the usual bluster. Plankton's murmurs don't cease, the words tumbling out like a stream of consciousness that makes no sense to anyone but him. "Echo...echolal...lal... la...echo...echolal..." Karen's grip on his shoulder tightens slightly, but she doesn't interrupt. She knows this is his way of coping, his method of navigating the storm in his mind. But Krabs is an outsider to this world, a blunt instrument in a place that requires finesse. But Krabs still wants to ask. "What does it mean, Plankton?" He ventures, his voice soft. "What are you trying to tell me?" He pleads, wanting to be welcomed into the autistic life he doesn't understand. But Plankton's words are for himself, a cocoon of comfort in the face of his enemy's curiosity. "Echo...echolal... lal...la...palilal...lal...la..." The words tumble out in a pattern that makes sense only to his own brain, a dance of self-expression in the chaos.