disabled as in
fuck you
as in
I’m trying
as in
there is no amount of evil one can do to deserve what my body does naturally
as in
I am whole, not in spite of this, but maybe because of it
as in
sometimes I feel guilty for wanting a cure
as in
the one elevator in my school is so far away from all my classes (and it barely works, too)
as in
I’m suffering
as in
I’m tired. So, so tired
as in
I’m done with being sorry for my symptoms
as in
maybe i don’t wanna be not sorry for just a moment, because unlearning is so taxing
as in
i feel like I’m being stabbed by a thousand knifes every waking moment
as in
hating every gym teacher on principal
as in
trying to swallow too many pills at once
as in
everything is just another side effect
as in
my bed is my best friend
as in
the internet is the only way I can truly be free
as in
distraction is the best medicine
as in
I’m suffering
as in
crying like a baby because something is so fundamentally wrong but I don’t know what it is or how to fix it and crying is all I have left
as in
every step feels like my foot is trying to rip itself apart muscle by muscle
as in
i hate doctors on principle
as in
too many passes to the nurse
as in
i can’t wait for a 504 plan to be set in place
as in
i don’t deserve to be punished for my symptoms
as in
disabled isn’t a dirty word
as in
i am not lesser
as in
just because I seem energetic, or happy, or anything really, does not mean I am magically okay again
as in
I’m tired of masking
as in
why should I accommodate for the world, shouldn’t it accommodate for me
as in
being surprised that others in my community are suffering more than i am but yet are still alive
as in
I’m tired of the wheelchair symbol because my disability isn’t visible, and it hurts that that’s all I am represented as
as in
the wheelchair symbol is still so fundamentally important to my community
as in
my friend, gently passing me a 3d printed infinity cube when he noticed I was stressed
as in
i am not a sick cowering puppy, I am just as alive and complex as you
as in
sometimes I am that puppy
as in
asking my teacher to turn off the lights, watching as she says it’s for her own migraine
as in
feeling grateful for all the little and big things people do to try and help
as in
my needs are different each day
as in
sometimes different people have conflicting accessibility needs
as in
laying > sitting > standing
as in
knowing that if someone felt what I did they’d go to the ER immediately, when I have to go to school
as in
I cannot predict a flare up
as in
i leave school early some days
as in
reading about the deaf community for asl class, and being genuinely hurt that they consider it “a different way of life” instead of just a “disability”.
as in
being in asl class, at all
as in
offering to help organize the ‘chill room’ in the student services hallway because I’m one of the kids who will use it most
as in
i want this to all be over with, I wanna be done
as in
i am proud of my disability, i take pride in it
as in
music is my best grounding technique, at least for me
as in
there is so much variety in our community
as in
my whole life is centered around disability, it affects everything
as in
i am so much more than just disabled
as in
i am not lesser
as in
“differently abled” is bullshit
as in
a doctor online saying adhd is just learned coping mechanisms, and my mom believing it
as in
me saying that it was utter bullshit, and she realized I was right
as in
my mom’s disabled too
as in
conversion disorder copies other’s symptoms, stuff that the victim knows
as in
a lot of my symptoms are like my mom’s
as in
my mom is the strongest person I know
as in
disabled isn’t a dirty word
as in
all of this, and more
as in
fuck you.
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hi i've missed you!
can we do something soft and just cute like going for drives and getting fast food and just talking?
“I’m picking you up,” came the crackling voice from the walkie talkie on the nightstand. “Meet me at the spot in ten. Over.”
“No, you freakazoid,” Steve barely moved from his blanket cocoon, only reaching one arm out to press the button on the side. “I’m asleep.”
“Clearly not. I’m on my way, Shithead. Over and out.”
Steve rolled his eyes, and contemplated going back to sleep for all of five seconds before he sighed, and heaved himself to standing.
Curse Billy for stealing that walkie from Max, for suggesting they stay on their own channel, different than the ones the kids use. Curse Billy for his insomnia and his late night drives. Curse Billy for the way he keeps on hand on Steve’s thigh while they go and always stops at the nearest drive-thru to get Steve a milkshake and wolf down a double cheeseburger (because his dad slapped him and sent him to his room without dinner. Again.)
Steve trudged around the side of his house, crashing through the well-worn path through the sparse trees to the road on the other side.
They both agreed that Billy’s car shouldn’t be spotted outside of Steve’s house, even if they were publicly friends now.
The Camaro was rumbling up the street, and Steve could practically feel the road of the engine shake in his chest before he could even spot the headlights.
Doesn’t matter how many speeding tickets Officer Callahan gives him, Billy’s never gonna be a sensible driver.
He stops in front of Steve, and he grins as Steve joins him in the car, leaning over the center console and burying his left hand in thick, dark brown hair to kiss Steve in a way that steals the breath from his lungs.
“You owe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, Princess. I’ll get you a damn milkshake.”
The car lurched forward, and they flew down the service roads, flipping off the Leaving Hawkins sign as they went past, on their way to a different little town.
A different little slice of life.
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“Please tell me nobody kissed me.” Steve laughed, and Tony, for the first time since he had met the soldier, could see real, genuine relief and joy on his face. Tony's lips curved. He had made the soldier laugh. Made him look like that. Something lodged in Tony's throat. Steve was relieved he was alive. In less than a week, in more than a few conversations, or well, yelling matches, they had formed enough of a bond that Steve… was relieved he was alive. The super soldier smiled again, real and satisfied and complete. “We won.” Tony smiled.
“Mr. Stark?” Tony couldn't feel his legs. He was grateful for it too, because his arm hurt just about enough. He didn't want to have to worry about his legs too. There was something digging into his side, maybe his rib, and it kinda hurt to breathe. Just a little. He spied Steve, out of the corner of his eye, something akin to devastation on his face. Heartbreak in his eyes. Tony would have moved. If he could've. Gone to his team. What he hoped was left of it. He could see Peter, and Rhodey, and Steve and Thor. But anyone else… He prayed to the gods he didn't believe in since he met what a real one was like that they were all okay. That Clint and Bruce and gods Pepper were alive. He wanted to hug Steve. Be hugged back. He wanted… he wanted to eat shawarma with his friends and drink crappy coffee at the park the way he and steve and thor always did on saturdays, and he wanted to go to art galleries with Nat and paint his nails with Clint. He wanted to sit in silence with Bruce and buy flowers for Pepper and play pool with Rhodey and test out equipment with Sam. He wanted to watch Morgan grow up and cheer for Peter when he got into his dream college. He wanted to… He wanted to see his team. Alive, happy, whole. And he wanted to hug them all. But that was really damned hard to do when one couldn't feel ones legs. Peter came into his periphery and Tony focused, shifting his head to look at the boy. Gods, he was going to miss him. Peter was bright in the same way Harvey had been, in the same way Tony liked to think he was. And he had this spark, this beautiful spark of life that made him so.. Joyous and happy and relieved to exist. Peter loved life, loved it whole heartedly and with open arms, even with everything it threw at him and took from him. Tony wanted him to keep that joy. That love. “Mr. Stark. We won Mr. Stark.” Peter whimpered. Tony smiled.
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[It was a windfall, air knocked out of my lungs, plunge into the abyss. I am nothing.
Pray tell, what have you learned? What have you found? What knowledge have you gained?
Stars, stars, stars. They are the gems of the sky.
Pray tell, the price of which you may pay? To what extent shall you let go? To what extent shall you pursue Life?
Gems, gems, gems. I am but a shard of what once was whole.
Pray tell, what have you learned? What have you found? To what extent shall you let go? To what extent
are you willing
to sacrifice
to be whole
again?
Crabs, crabs, crabs. This is inevitable, for I am never whole without them.
Are
you
yourself?
To be myself is to be whole, to be whole is to be with them. To be with them is to be myself.
Pray tell, should your memories be forgotten
who will you
forget
?
Myself.
.
.
.
]
[You doze off, you dreamt you were talking to someone.]
[You can't remember anything else.]
[You heard the door open, Siffrin walks in the store. The book opens, time to get back to the first page, researcher.]
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