|Photo Description: Ink pen laying on papers filled with script.|
Note To The Freaking World (and especially the guy yesterday who yelled at me because I was in the liquor store):
I am a stranger to you.
My disability does not give you permission to enter into my space.
Or permission to touch me.
Or permission to inform me of your opinion about me, my disability or my life.
My disability does not equal your stereotypes, there is not just one way to be disabled.
I don't care that you have a friend who's brother's cousin knew someone who knew someone who once (choose one) took a herbal remedy to cure disability; submitted their life to prayer and were healed; developed a positive attitude and miraculously walked again. I don't care, so shut up.
What I buy is not up for public scrutiny and I do not need to explain. Telling me that I don't have a right to buy beer because it's taxpayers dollars I'm wasting demonstrates not only your prejudice and your ignorance but also your comfort with your seat on the hierarchy, built by bigots, which you presume to be above me. From that vantage point you believe you have a right, as all who combine ignorance, privilege and a need to feel superior do, to comment on what I'm buying, what I'd doing, and how you perceive the decisions I make. Do you realize how small that makes you? Really, really, small.
I have the right to space.
I have a right to the space around me.
I have a right to determine if I need held and ask for it.
I don't exist for your benefit.
The fact that I can back on to an elevator, or any number of mundane skills, is not extraordinary, so you don't need to be in awe and you sure as hell don't need to compliment me on it.
If you'd rather be dead than in a wheelchair, you're wrong, you have no idea how permanent death is and how mobile a wheelchair is, so shut up.
I'm not your friend, I don't know you, so, please don't presume a familiarity that's not there.
I don't care if you are a nurse, you are off duty, so shut up.
That's all I have time for today. Yes, I have a life, I have other things to do than think about you.
Well done Dave,
I woul have added: and don't ass-u-me!
Too bad someone like that would never read here, never get to know you.
It is all driven by a perverted fear: we represent what someone might become, if they 'let' themselves.
And they have no manners.
Did you complain to the manager?
I'm sorry. I wish I could do something about other people being rude and dismissive and total asses.
How tired you must be, in your heart, some days. I'm sorry, Dave.
how infuriating! nobody deserves that sort of treatment!!
For Fuck's Sake, Man in Liquor Store.
Have you ever considered putting things like this on a card, that you could hand out as necessary.
Daily life - all the struggles we consistently have to put up with - the assumptions, the ignorance - I'm with you Dave. This is why I spend a lot of time alone.
...and also why I keep coming back to read your thoughts. Sometimes you teach me entirely new things, and then -- like today -- you eloquently remind me of the blessed community.
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