Me being a pretty severe disabledcel, it may come as a surprise to you all that growing up as a child I wasn't much bothered by my disability at all. And when I'm alone in the privacy of my home, I still don't give a flying fuck about having cerebral palsy. Subtracting the social aspect, I view it as a minor inconvenience, if anything. Sure, I take a bit longer than usual to do the dishes and shit. But who fucking cares if you have all the time in the world?
But wait, that's against society's rules, isn't it, someone with such an unusual body actually being content with it? How dare he? Who does he think he is? Let's teach that dirty chink gimp a lesson! So, in puberty, when I start venturing into the streets on my own, it begins with people assuming I'm a retard. (No offence to actual retards.) That's annoying and somewhat humiliating, but I wasn't phased by it or anything. I must have had the patience (or naiveté) of an angel back then, explaining to all and sundry, over and over again, that no, I hadn't lost sight of my parents. That, yes, I knew I had to have cash to buy a sweet. (Some were even so stupid to take that condescending tone with me when I wanted to buy a foreign-language astronomy book from them. )
The real fun started when I became interested in girls, and later foids. Rejection after rejection. "You're such a nice person, but..." It took some time before I realized that it wasn't my personality or any other non-physical attributes that they rejected (except possibly my sperg tendencies), but my body plain and simple. I simply wasn't chad enough to make their pussies moist. In fact, looking back, I was the absolute bottom-of-the-barrel in high school's sexual hierarchy. The über-omega, so to speak, whom everyone made fun of behind my back.
Moving to the big city, in order to attend university, made things infinitely worse. Going anywhere outside my dorm became running a gauntlet of racist slurs, barely concealed snickering, and worst of all, that hypocritical-to-the-bone faux-acceptance of minorities that liberal white people like to bandy about. I can now see that for what it is: profound disgust, with a thin veneer of sanctimonious virtue signalling about how everyone is equal and deserves respect. All the while completely ignoring my perspective and input in their "conversations" (actually monologues) with me.
So now here I am, a chronic malcontent, who regularly has a barely controllable urge to rip every inch of his body to shreds, just to be rid of it. Sometimes I weep for the little boy that I once was, almost perfectly at ease within his own skin, blissfully unaware of how cruel (intentionally or unintentionally) most people are to those with non-standard bodies.
At the same time, let's end this story on a somewhat positive note. I'm not gonna rope anytime soon. Before I leave this vale of tears, I'm gonna taunt every cruel asshole and self-righteous cunt that I meet by proudly displaying the broken gimp body that they find so disgusting. My every cell will stand as a living insult to the corrupt, vain, superficial, decadent values that our dying western civilization has willingly embraced. Amen.
But wait, that's against society's rules, isn't it, someone with such an unusual body actually being content with it? How dare he? Who does he think he is? Let's teach that dirty chink gimp a lesson! So, in puberty, when I start venturing into the streets on my own, it begins with people assuming I'm a retard. (No offence to actual retards.) That's annoying and somewhat humiliating, but I wasn't phased by it or anything. I must have had the patience (or naiveté) of an angel back then, explaining to all and sundry, over and over again, that no, I hadn't lost sight of my parents. That, yes, I knew I had to have cash to buy a sweet. (Some were even so stupid to take that condescending tone with me when I wanted to buy a foreign-language astronomy book from them. )
The real fun started when I became interested in girls, and later foids. Rejection after rejection. "You're such a nice person, but..." It took some time before I realized that it wasn't my personality or any other non-physical attributes that they rejected (except possibly my sperg tendencies), but my body plain and simple. I simply wasn't chad enough to make their pussies moist. In fact, looking back, I was the absolute bottom-of-the-barrel in high school's sexual hierarchy. The über-omega, so to speak, whom everyone made fun of behind my back.
Moving to the big city, in order to attend university, made things infinitely worse. Going anywhere outside my dorm became running a gauntlet of racist slurs, barely concealed snickering, and worst of all, that hypocritical-to-the-bone faux-acceptance of minorities that liberal white people like to bandy about. I can now see that for what it is: profound disgust, with a thin veneer of sanctimonious virtue signalling about how everyone is equal and deserves respect. All the while completely ignoring my perspective and input in their "conversations" (actually monologues) with me.
So now here I am, a chronic malcontent, who regularly has a barely controllable urge to rip every inch of his body to shreds, just to be rid of it. Sometimes I weep for the little boy that I once was, almost perfectly at ease within his own skin, blissfully unaware of how cruel (intentionally or unintentionally) most people are to those with non-standard bodies.
At the same time, let's end this story on a somewhat positive note. I'm not gonna rope anytime soon. Before I leave this vale of tears, I'm gonna taunt every cruel asshole and self-righteous cunt that I meet by proudly displaying the broken gimp body that they find so disgusting. My every cell will stand as a living insult to the corrupt, vain, superficial, decadent values that our dying western civilization has willingly embraced. Amen.
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