And then eat its food. Got it.

Not yet!

There’s a huge gulf in consent required to make those types of porns.

Very few “compliments” make me angrier!

I’m tired of fighting those. All it does is get me slapped with “difficult” labels and slurs.

I don’t owe you battles with imaginary monsters with disease names.

Also, not to get all social model here, most of my daily griefs aren’t caused by my disabilities but abled bullshit.

Yeah, I do have limitations, but you know who usually finds that a problem? Nondisabled people.

It also serves the function of further curtaining abled people from the reality of illness by qualifying it as a private struggle.

And honestly, there is no victory here. There’s just…living. Some things you don’t get to vanquish. You just keep going.

It’s not a compliment! First of all, I don’t want to use violent metaphors for my day to day life. Second, this is a nonsense narrative to make abled people feel better about this when we “lose”.

“Oh, she gave it a good college try, but in the end, COVID wanted it bad enough.”

That’s “I shrank this jacket in the wash and it no longer fits most adult men let alone me”

Like “oh no, I spilled bbq sauce on my jacket right before the big red carpet. Bro, give me yours!”

Bro: “I think I’m a few sizes too small for that, dude.”

“Too late! Quick, give it to me!”

The lapels so thin it’s a shawl collar. A tie wide enough to drive down. THE JEANS

Aughhh it burns

That’s a little boy playing dress up, not the wealthy heir to way too much money.

And the JEANS. And the fit. Appalling.

Alas, he’s nearly 20 years old and came from Joann.

Well. That’s a train wreck.

When I can. COVID took my lung capacity. Some days are better than others.