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"The Slow and Subtle Movements of a Stump" (i mostly just started doing this spontaneously on here)
I have no arms or legs, that's why i move around in this wheelchair by blowing into a tube certain ways. The different ways i blow into it control its movement and direction. It's a rather neat invention for someone like me. It doesn't matter that i can't talk while moving. . . since I can't talk. Yes, I'm basically a limbless mute. But I like to get out. Fresh air and scenery does me worlds of good--very much good in contrast to the sterility of this "special care home" I now live in. I don't mean to sound bitter about it. They're very good here; I even made the final decision to put myself in here. I can't live by myself anymore. A lot of the time I have to be spoon-fed. I hate it and I try to eat like a dog, mashing my face into my food, when I can. It's messy, but it makes me feel less helpless sometimes. . . and I need that sometimes.
That's my only real problem with this place. It's just the fact that I can't live on my own, do most anything (I say "most" more out of pity for myself than for the purpose of being entirely truthful.) that I want to or need to. . . It's not entirely hopeless and I'm extremely thankful for the kindness of others (since it's something that I must depend on), but I won't say that it's had any great life lesson and wouldn't trade anything for what I've learned. Quite the contrary: I'm scared to think about the things that I'd do in order to get my arms and legs and voice back again. But I digress. . .
They taught me Morse code when I first got here. That's one of the main reasons that I'm capable of writing at such length. The other main reason is due to the "what will they think of next?" wonders of technology. When I insert my knowledge of Morse code into this microphone that gets placed inside my mouth by means of clicking my tongue, words are magically "typed" into this computer. It even has its own added Morse code for punctuation and everything. "What will they think of next?" I will admit that it is a bit tedious, but one thing that I do have is an immense abundance of time. Now my thanks go out to the medical side of technology and its amazing wonders. "Keep a human stump living and well for an excruciatingly monotonous and oh-so-very-long human life span!? My! what will they think of next!?" Sorry, but I'd be doing a horrible injustice to myself/everyone if I kept all my bitterness inside and tried to pretend that it wasn't there. I try to overcome it as much as I can, but I'll never be able to surpass it. People with much lesser problems can't even come close, so how could I? But to beat a cliché (isn't that impressive! You wouldn't believe the effort that that character takes!. . . or maybe you would. . .) into the ground (and I will here, I like this cliché (ouch! my tongue! I need to find ways around that word.) and I'll keep using it.): But I digress. . .
I'd better calm it on down w/ the big complex parenthesis structures before I turn into the illegitimate stump of Faulkner or something like that. People won't even be driven to read this by pity (or a voyeuristic perversion for suffering) alone. Unless, of course, the writing itself was the perversion for suffering that they had. But I'm so far off topic now I'm beginning to forget what I was trying to say. I guess that it's another time for digression. . .
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[i'm stopping this here and continuing it in another post, since it's getting to be quite large, and i've barely even started w/ it yet...]
That's my only real problem with this place. It's just the fact that I can't live on my own, do most anything (I say "most" more out of pity for myself than for the purpose of being entirely truthful.) that I want to or need to. . . It's not entirely hopeless and I'm extremely thankful for the kindness of others (since it's something that I must depend on), but I won't say that it's had any great life lesson and wouldn't trade anything for what I've learned. Quite the contrary: I'm scared to think about the things that I'd do in order to get my arms and legs and voice back again. But I digress. . .
They taught me Morse code when I first got here. That's one of the main reasons that I'm capable of writing at such length. The other main reason is due to the "what will they think of next?" wonders of technology. When I insert my knowledge of Morse code into this microphone that gets placed inside my mouth by means of clicking my tongue, words are magically "typed" into this computer. It even has its own added Morse code for punctuation and everything. "What will they think of next?" I will admit that it is a bit tedious, but one thing that I do have is an immense abundance of time. Now my thanks go out to the medical side of technology and its amazing wonders. "Keep a human stump living and well for an excruciatingly monotonous and oh-so-very-long human life span!? My! what will they think of next!?" Sorry, but I'd be doing a horrible injustice to myself/everyone if I kept all my bitterness inside and tried to pretend that it wasn't there. I try to overcome it as much as I can, but I'll never be able to surpass it. People with much lesser problems can't even come close, so how could I? But to beat a cliché (isn't that impressive! You wouldn't believe the effort that that character takes!. . . or maybe you would. . .) into the ground (and I will here, I like this cliché (ouch! my tongue! I need to find ways around that word.) and I'll keep using it.): But I digress. . .
I'd better calm it on down w/ the big complex parenthesis structures before I turn into the illegitimate stump of Faulkner or something like that. People won't even be driven to read this by pity (or a voyeuristic perversion for suffering) alone. Unless, of course, the writing itself was the perversion for suffering that they had. But I'm so far off topic now I'm beginning to forget what I was trying to say. I guess that it's another time for digression. . .
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[i'm stopping this here and continuing it in another post, since it's getting to be quite large, and i've barely even started w/ it yet...]