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Starry, starry nights

@steampoweredskeleton

I'm Caleb (He/him). Hi! I'm a queer guy who has no idea what's fucking going on. Tune in for a spam of whatever has tickled my fancy at the time.

sometimes "but you don't look disabled" is not even about the visibility of your disability. sometimes it's about "you look like an actual person and i picture disabled people as some weird creatures that i can never ever meet and now my reality is crashed by the fact that i see an actual disabled person and they look like a person."

I can clearly remember the moment I first realised my mother and I were living on completely different planes of existence. I was 7 years old and I came home from my school's first track and field day having placed second or third in every event. the teachers had been making jokes all afternoon about how many times they had to call my name. my friends thought I was cool as shit. my enemies thought I was cool as shit too, come to think of it. I was proud as hell. so I get home with the entire front of my shirt covered in ribbons like I was a military dictator who'd awarded himself every medal, I walk into the kitchen and tell my mum all about my day, and she goes "oh, that must be disappointing not getting any firsts." and I'm like no?? first of all the first place ribbons are red and I don't like red. second of all look at me. there's literally nowhere left on my body for accolades. I am fucking Jacked of All Trades. how could this possibly be a disappointment.

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