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- take pills.
- lay down with lights low, read until pills kick in.
- put book away and turn off light.
- suffer in silent pain tossing and turning
- change position again and again
- check clock and change position again
- pain gets too distracting to try to sleep, give up
- turn on light, read.
- pain gets too distracting to read, watch netflix instead
- wake up in pain and confused; somehow it’s morning.
OH MY GOD THERE’S ONE OF THOSE AWFUL ABLEIST “INSPIRATIONAL” STORIES ABOUT AN AUTISTIC KID AND THEIR PET CIRCULATING ON TUMBLR
AND THE GIRL
THE AUTISTIC KID
Y’KNOW THE ONE BEING EXPLOITED
(am I making it clear enough that I think the way those stories are presented is gross?)
ANYWAY SHE’S FROM MY HOMETOWN
MY LITTLE MIDDLE-ENGLISH TOWN
Remember when I started writing “Douglas’s daughter’s adventures at boarding school”? And then stopped writing altogether?
I was just looking over it again, and came across this little scene:
“So you have Martin, soaked to the skin, absolutely covered in… what grass turns into inside a goose, the left arm falling off his uniform, carrying what used to be a sheep, trying to shepherd these geese through an airport security gate.” Douglas’s eyes shone with fun as he related his anecdote.
“I don’t believe it,” Isobel giggled. “I think you’ve made Martin up and really you fly with someone really boring called Nigel.”
“Ah, now I did fly with a Nigel once…”
Douglas threw her his beaming smile again. “It could only happen to Martin, but it did happen.”
Isobel crossed her arms and leant back in her chair, challenging him. “I will only believe it when I meet him and he slips on a banana skin.”
“What if a piano fell on his head, seemingly from nowhere?”
“That would work. Also an anvil would be acceptable.”
“I shall endeavour to arrange it.”
….which I thought someone might enjoy.
I feel I need to make new friends.
Friends more my age, more grown up, maybe… better adjusted?
In addition to my current wonderful bunch of friends, obviously
But I’m scared that better-adjusted people… wouldn’t want or be able to deal with me.
College students only have 2 levels of stress:
1) I don’t give a fuck
2) OH MY GOD IF I CAN’T DO THIS MY LIFE IS OVER I’M GONNA HAVE TO WORK AT MCDONALDS
There is no in between.
But it’s all good because you graduate and end up working at McDonalds anyway
with a bunch of kids you went to school with and are in a better position than you because THEY don’t have tens of thousands of pounds in debts.
Okayso I was in our local independent bookshop earlier and they had this little display of comic books by a local-ish author/artist (are you an author or an artist if you do comic books? both surely, but which should one say? I know nothing)
So I picked up this book and flicked through it a little and bought it
And I brought it home and I just read it and I cried a little
The book is called Like A Shark In A Swimming Pool and is available to buy here for the low price of £6 (plus shipping of some amount I expect)
and it’s by one Verity Hall, verity-h on here.
It is the incredibly relatable story of a 15-year-old girl who is forcibly outed as “not straight” when she’s only just working out what her sexuality might be. The art style is lovely and appropriately bleak in places and this book is going right on my top shelf of “Books What Are Important”.
Buy it if you get the opportunity? Buy it for all your nieces nephews sons daughters cousins godkids family friends, gay or otherwise, to remind them that other kids are human, and their actions have lasting impacts, and also, y’know, comic books are awesome. It is never the wrong time to encourage the reading of comic books.
Okay I’ve said my piece.
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