My distraught
cousin believes I am in bed. My antagonized attendant believes I should be in
bed, and I was on the point of going to bed, but the upset apple cart might be
likened to the evidence of a high school pep rally pecking order, one which I
don’t really have time for, but nonetheless I offered provocation, not at Maxine's incitement level 20 minutes to
check out and Galahad rebelled. Rightly so, as I do not let go easily. The
consequences fell on my cousin’s head more than my own, as my raw aches
cauterized by the end of May, but I had a 62 year old woman wailing she did
nothing wrong, why was Galahad mad at her? This is not a feigned attachment.
She truly believes my care worker is her friend, and it makes me skittish, how
she clings to a working class man she only spoke to once. Even I’m not that
attached, and without his attentiveness, even if I did transfer myself onto the
chair in his absence, I would run into loss of independence hygiene
maintenance, and I’m next to indifferent on the matter, still bound to the
temporal order of the world because a deflated ego wishes to save my voice. Am
I engaged in that recovery? Only in minor starts, overwhelmed. White collar
professionals presumably have a better grip on emotional maturity, and if he knows
he has his freedom, he erupts vigorously when I drop the occasional depth
charge into it. Why bother? Fighting to reset the parameters of his intimate
consolation, I respect that, obey the routine, but cannot pretend continuously
that this situation is a cakewalk for me. Being bused some 40 minutes outside
my district into Sun Valley in the ninth grade was equally not delectable, and
the only utilitarian victory disability activism handed me on a platter was
suing Ridley Township to install wheelchair ramps. It never mitigated the
culture shock, something which took years, shedding the special education modifier. Bringing all my professional acumen to
bear, I am functionally my cousin’s psychologist, singing pennies from heaven
while Gene Kelly choreographs the special effects of water vapor. I miss making
love, transforming him into a pugilist sparring partner.
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