In the Preface, Higashida explains that his autism prevents real conversation because his words always come out wrong or vanish entirely.

Higashida explains he communicates not by speaking or writing normally but by pointing at symbols on a Japanese alphabet grid.

Higashida reveals that unlike people without autism, he experiences a gap between thinking of a response and actually saying it aloud.

Higashida explains that during conversation some people with autism lose access to needed words, leaving basic questions impossible to ask.

Higashida says trying to control his body feels like remotely operating a faulty robot that veers off in random directions.

Answering the worst thing about autism, Higashida says others cannot see or grasp how deeply unhappy some people with autism can be.

Higashida tells 'Slip Sliding Away,' in which the tortoise falls and is helped home while the winning hare finds nobody at the finish line.

Higashida reveals that while he once desperately wanted to be normal, he now prefers remaining autistic because autism defines who he is.

Higashida tells 'Earthling and Autisman,' in which a visitor to Autisman's planet feels weightless there after being crushed by gravity on earth.

Higashida explains that emotion physically freezes his body and jumping helps shake that frozen feeling loose, and he wishes he could fly.

Higashida explains that spinning objects gives him a feeling of perfect control and produces a deep, everlasting sense of bliss.

Higashida visits the Great Statue of Buddha and breaks down crying, feeling all generations of human suffering and hardship pass through him.

Higashida explains that his running off is driven by an uncontrollable brain compulsion to chase whatever enters his line of sight.

Higashida offers a speculative theory that autism arose as the earth's response to environmental destruction, linking people with autism to a primordial past.

In the Afterword, Higashida expresses hope that readers now understand his difficult behaviors do not arise from selfishness or egotism.

Naoki Higashida opens his book by explaining that his nonspeaking autism prevents him from having real conversations, with his words vanishing whenever he tries to speak. He reveals how he communicates through an alphabet grid and identifies the fundamental gap between thought and verbal expression as the root cause of his communication struggles. Moving through questions about the body, Higashida describes feeling like he is remotely controlling a faulty robot and confronts the worst thing about autism—that others cannot see how deeply unhappy it can make him. He explores whether he would want to be normal, concluding that despite years of longing for it, he would choose to remain autistic because autism is now inseparable from his identity. The book's second half examines compulsive behaviors like spinning, running away, and jumping, explaining each as a response to emotional or sensory overwhelm. Higashida closes with a speculative theory linking autism to the earth's environmental crisis and affirms in the Afterword that none of his behaviors arise from selfishness.

The core revelations and milestones of Higashida's account of living with autism.

Higashida reveals his memory works like a pool of dots rather than linearly, causing him to repeat questions he has already asked.

Higashida explains that echoing a question back is not ignorance but a search through past memories to find the appropriate response.

Higashida argues that speaking to people with autism like children is infantilizing and denies them the sense that they have a future.

Higashida explains he avoids eye contact because concentrating on processing another person's speech leaves no mental capacity to focus on their face.

Higashida reveals that some people with autism fear being touched because they believe touching will make their private thoughts visible to others.

Higashida explains that waving goodbye goes wrong because people with autism struggle to imitate movements involving body parts they cannot see.

Higashida explains that sudden laughing highs in some people with autism are triggered by happy or funny memories unexpectedly surfacing in the mind.

Higashida describes flashback memories as experiences so vivid they feel as though they are happening right now, always bringing back distress.

Higashida reveals that performing any physical action requires a three-step process: thinking about it, then visualizing it, then motivating himself to begin.

Higashida writes 'Never-Ending Summer,' comparing people with autism to restless cicadas who are always hurrying and detached from the ordinary flow of time.

Higashida tells 'A Story I Heard Somewhere' about a woman who dances non-stop for seven days and finds sublime joy in pure repetition.

Higashida explains that memorizing timetables provides emotional security because unlike ambiguous human relationships, numbers always stay exactly the same.

Higashida explains that lining up objects and completing jigsaws makes the brain feel refreshed and clear, offering genuine pleasure rather than just comfort.

Higashida explains that free time is not truly free for some people with autism because enjoyable activities do not come to mind spontaneously.

A crow tells a lost white dove that every path leads to the same destination, finally bringing her peace after her long search.

This pool traces the secondary but vital discoveries Higashida shares across the book's middle sections, beginning with insights into memory and communication. He reveals the internal logic behind behaviors that appear strange from the outside, such as why he repeats questions and echoes words back, explaining each as a product of a non-linear memory and a reflective search through past experience. He then examines physical and sensory difficulties—from avoiding eye contact to the fear of being touched—showing how each reflects deeper emotional and neurological realities. The short stories 'Never-Ending Summer,' 'A Story I Heard Somewhere,' and 'The Black Crow and the White Dove' appear at key moments to capture the restlessness, joy, and existential searching that run through Higashida's experience. Higashida also explains how fixed things like numbers and timetables offer security against an unpredictable emotional world, and why lining up objects brings genuine pleasure rather than mere habit. The pool closes with the crow and dove parable, suggesting that the rootlessness felt by some people with autism can offer wisdom to everyone about accepting that there is no final resting place.

Secondary revelations and short stories that deepen understanding of autistic experience.

Higashida reveals he learned about his autism because others told him he was different from everyone else and called that difference a problem.

Higashida admits his voice operates like an uncontrollable reflex rather than intentional speech, and he deeply wishes he could speak differently.

Higashida confesses he avoids social situations not because he prefers being alone but out of fear of annoying others, which deepens his loneliness.

Higashida reveals that making even a trivial mistake, such as spilling a drop of water, causes him devastating and uncontrollable emotional distress.

Higashida reveals that certain sounds trigger a terrifying feeling that he is losing all sense of location, compelling him to cup his ears.

Higashida reveals that apparent insensitivity to pain in some people with autism is actually an inability to express the pain they are feeling.

Higashida reveals that people with autism notice details in a scene first and only later grasp the whole, the opposite of neurotypical perception.

Higashida explains that visual schedules can cause distress for some people with autism when real events do not unfold exactly as shown.

Shun notices everyone in the street staring coldly through him and discovers his own mother cannot see or hear him at home.

An old man tells Shun that he is dead, having been struck by a car that ran a red light.

Shun collapses on his walk to heaven and wakes to find God standing before him, learning he has no body but complete freedom.

Shun returns to earth as a ghost and senses his mother can feel his presence, but both parents are still devastated by grief.

Shun sees his mother dying of grief in hospital and accepts God's offer to be reborn, giving up his identity to save her.

A baby named Nozomi is born to Shun's parents, and his mother dreams of Shun asking her not to grieve, prompting a fresh start.

Four-year-old Nozomi meets the old man who recognizes her as Shun reborn, then runs to cherry trees wondering what her brother was like.

This pool opens with the moment Higashida first discovered his autism—not through self-awareness but through others labeling his difference as a problem—and traces a series of intimate turning-point revelations. He confesses that his voice is an uncontrollable reflex, that he isolates himself out of fear rather than preference, and that even trivial mistakes can cause him overwhelming emotional devastation. Higashida then uncovers hidden truths about autism: how certain sounds erase his sense of location, how apparent insensitivity to pain actually masks an inability to express it, and how people with autism perceive details before the whole. The pool shifts into the allegorical story 'I'm Right Here,' following Shun's journey from invisible ghost to heavenly wanderer and finally back to earth as a newborn child. Shun's willingness to sacrifice his identity—his memories, his name, and his very self—to save his dying mother forms the emotional and thematic climax of the entire book. The story closes with the reborn Nozomi running toward cherry trees, wondering about the brother she never knew, leaving readers with both sorrow and hope.