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Literature Text
Forgotten trash
Discarded newspaper
A gust of wind
Twirling, Twisting, Spinning
Leaping, soaring, flying
In a child’s eyes
Magic comes to life
Dancing
Discarded newspaper
A gust of wind
Twirling, Twisting, Spinning
Leaping, soaring, flying
In a child’s eyes
Magic comes to life
Dancing
Literature
Limbs Without Moviments
My name is Melissa, I am a suitor. He liked to pretend disabilities of various types, physical ones were the ones he liked the most: paraplegia, amputations, quadriplegia. I lived alone, at my grandmother's house, she died when I was 21, I was raised by her, my parents died when I was a child. I inherited everything from my family, my grandmother's house, my parents' assets. We were not rich, but we were in good shape and, with my work, I was able to maintain a good condition. I worked in graphic design, was a freelancer and offered my services over the internet, I never had contact with my clients, only by phone, so I spent most of my time at home, pretending to be disabled almost every day. I'm small, about 5.5 ', I was thin, I had long blond hair, green eyes, medium breasts. I had several devices: an electric chair controlled by spin n puff and also with chin control, a manual wheelchair, bandages, crutches. My favorite disability was quadruple amputation along with quadriplegia, I
Literature
Care
I could care for you. Like, really and truly care for you. You might think that the operations of the small army of nurses and PCAs who are with you 24/7 constitute Care. I appreciate their work; it is good and necessary. But it is not Care. Care is an art. There's a craft to it. The changing of catheters, range of motion exercises and administration of drugs aren't keeping you alive. They're keeping you Not-dead. Not-dead is good, don't get me wrong. But there is more to living than the flow of food, blood, and waste. Of course, I would keep you not-dead. I like to think I would do better than the majority of loved ones who get roped into these sorts of situations. It wouldn't be a walk in the park. It'd be a lot to deal with, even coming as prepared as I am. All the diapers, health complications, and strangers handling your body. It's not glamorous. But I'd like to be there for everything. Good and bad. And yeah, there's a lot of bad. The lack of spontaneity, pressure sores, medical
Literature
No Moving 1
Hello people! My old profile was disabled, I created this one and will post the stories again. . . . . My name is Judith, I'm 18 years old and I'm an aspiring quadriplegic. I live in Berlin and since very young I liked to watch and watch videos of people with disabilities. I always imagined what it would be like to drive a sip n puff wheelchair. I would like to be a quadriplegic with a C3 level injury, being able to breathe alone and move only the head or below the shoulders. I live with my parents, they never suspected my aspiration. When I go to sleep, I pretend I can't move, I leave my body limp, limp, unable to move anything below the neck, pretending that I'm a high-level quadriplegic, the feeling is indescribable, I wanted to try this life for a few days. When I was 16, I was walking around the mall with my best friend, Flaviky, she is the only one who knows my secret, and I saw a man, looking 46 years old, he was sitting in a big, bulky wheelchair, with arms, with headrest
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I remember once when I was young, some wind made this bit of newspaper dance around. I pointed this out to my mother and she sounded pleased but surprised. Children see the world as it really is.
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So cute! This makes me happy.