I just found out Gary Johnson is running. I love him! He’s Eeyore. Check it out from 2008. Bringing new meaning to political cartoon. <a href=”https://hobbling.wordpress.com/2016/01/08/bringing-new-meaning-to-political-cartoon-2/”>https://hobbling.wordpress.com/2016/01/08/bringing-new-meaning-to-political-cartoon-2/</a>
The smile is the one the guys at the fire department threw around for me to test its durability. I will be talking our community center soon about having wheelchair play dates on a regular basis at the handicap accessible … Continue reading
I’ve been riding around town in my wheelchair collecting gift cards, coupons, and other tokens of appreciation for the wives and kids of the Moore Police Department.
On August 2nd, I’m throwing them a party.
Sometimes I feel my emotional temperature rising. Minor irritation turns to annoyance turns to frustration and I feel anger’s heat approaching.
This time I managed to stop and recognize the temperature change for what it is. an opportunity to learn more about myself and others and about the interactions between us all. I survived. This time…
I thought you were never going to disappear.
I thought you loved me too;
At least in some weird way.
I thought we were meant to be.
If only for a moment.
We needed each other.
Guess we don’t anymore.
Or do we?
I guess I’ll never know
Or will I?
The choice is yours.
I’ll always love you.
But I’m tired of always being the one
To reach out,
To miss you,
To think about us
If there ever was an us
Perhaps you were a figment of my imagination all along
Never really real.
Why I’m always searching for and never really finding you.
How two people can be so close while so far apart.
When the bubble will burst, and the fantasy will flop.
What our story will be after the climax.
Who will fall apart first.
If our love will survive.
My dyingwithstyle journey through blogland begins. I’m excited.
I’ve actually been blogging for a while as the hobbler, but this is my attempt at being professional, in as professional as this CDC can get.
I needed a way to interact with people around the world who aren’t afraid to die with style. Before you psychos out there get any ideas, I believe in living each day as if it was your last, and not necessarily planning your own, and certainly not planning anyone else’s death.
I do believe that living with death in mind is important for living life to the fullest and making the most of the time you have.
Alright sleep is calling my name. Interact people. Comment. Blogging is much more fun if there’s lots of interaction, and I’m sure anyone who reads this has a story to tell, so let me get to know you. Thanks!
Ode to Surface Pro
I see you looking at me from across the room
You can’t get enough of me, can you?
You want to feel my fingers all over you
You want to bask in the heat of my gaze
You want me to push your every button
So you can gently respond.
Begging me for more…
You glory in me ripping you apart
And slapping you back together
Even now you bend to my every whim
I tease you with my touch before
Tearing you apart and leaving you broken
While I eat my food and watch a show
I’ll take my sweet time but eventually
I will hold you and bring you together again.
Soon, you beg for a different type of touch
The whip I use on you every night
Lights you up like the fourth of July
But still, you beg for it, day and night
You hunger for that whip.
So I will end these strokes of pleasure
And feed my love the whip she craves
Okay, 7%, I get it…
When I was about fifteen or so, I was scrolling through some disability-related books, not paying much attention to most of them. I became very alert, however, when I stumbled across a book (whose title escapes me) about society’s puritanical de-sexualization of wheelchair users. The book also delved into the experiences of other physically disabled populations, exploring the myth that we are not and do not want to be sexual creatures. This was a new idea to me, or so I thought. But, as I continued to read, I realized it wasn’t new at all.
I cast my mind back to a family trip to Mexico when I was about thirteen. This is well past the age when girls generally become convinced that kissing someone would be more fun than icky, and I was experiencing a tame awakening of my own around that time. As my sister and I walked…
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I stay awake.
If you are out there
More than my imagination.
More than my daydream.
More than your words
On a screen
In my hand
And in my heart.
I love the fantasy I have of you.
I love that you don’t actually see me.
There is something so beautiful about a world freed from reality.
I can be myself, without being my total self.
It is beautiful