“I’m done – out of the scene,” said one with exasperated finality.
“Are you sure?” asked the other with brows raised quizzically.
They both looked around for a moment and then burst out laughing,
“Nah!!” they loud chortle-whooped in unison.
“I didn’t think so!” the second one ribbed while gasping.
Note the subtitles 😀
Is it pain?
Is it trauma?
Don’t want to feed
This brain haze llama.
Regardless of the fact that I have brain trauma, people keep trying to run me in circles – so I’ve begun pushing back and letting them see the brain trauma.
An amazing, rippling, luster-petaled white rose with incredible smell that now once I read its name feels weird to inhale!
Resolving while in the hospital bathroom that I will continue skating above the thin ice while laughing – even as it crackles in thin-spot warnings beneath my sliding feet – the therapeutic suction cup attached on my right shoulder suddenly released, launching itself into the perfect arc required for it to splash deep into the soiled toilet water.
“How’s that tiny needle apurature snugging as you try to pass through it, mein camel?”
Or even in a Jam =
Jar’s encasement.
Is that when they stuff a pigeon into a hole, unwillingly?
But then, what pigeon would willingly offer to get stuck into a hole?
And who and for what reason is there being any stuffing in the first place?!
In quick succession, my wage loss coverage was cut by entrapment’s misrepresentating (Ha!); I was told that I owed unemployment money instead of the fact that they owe me; and the petition of many invested years found its now closed way back to me.
My new belt split at its highest use point, tearing off the flange most needed.
More bell, please.
I had, of course, worried that the 3rd party doctor would claim some biased reason to discount my current inability to work – especially since she refused to perform the neurological assessment duties that I, my main doctor, and even my insurance company had requested and thought she was going to do.
But no.
Her eyes had glazed over during my interview and she seemed distracted and agitated when I told her my after-car accident current symptoms that I have been working diligently to have identified and strategies of rehabilitation formulated.
She was not interested and responded lacklusterly, telling me vaguely that she was not allowed to assess me for these things.
Then, her eyes lit up alive and she became animated when I told her of the many physical traumas that I have had since childhood and outgrew and overcame.
I stated these honestly because I was required to, and proudly because these have been previous “wars that I have won” and was very functional afterwards despite of.
After performing a brief exam that any walk- in clinic would offer after first shrugging her shoulders and indicating by body language and slight comment that it was useless and wouldn’t matter, her 16 page I-am-sure-templated-report did not dispute that I could not currently work – but that the accident was not the cause of my current inabilities!
What-what-what?! the warbling dodo bird comedian sqwuaks at this ridiculous claim in the face of all actual evidence that has been given.
The cascade of allowed and unchecked resultant destabilizing force from this claim has put all of my rallying defences under the gun.
Contemporary Show Tune
By Athena Stairs
December 18, 2023
I like not having to be perfect
For some guy who’s not worth it
I can walk with a swagger
And not care for the latter
I can look upon my face
Without any makeup splatters
I like being in my own body
With my own choice to be good or naughty
Escuse as I digress
My hair it is a mess
And in my middle age
I can be haughty
I like having freedom of expression
Without going to a counseling session
I can say what I like
Without worrying if it’s right
I don’t need your help
I’ve got my own critic
I like when I get up in the morning
There’s nobody to tell me I’ve been snoring
I don’t have to cower down
For worrying that you’ll frown
At any imperfection
Where you’re looking
I like saying no to the callous
Men who seek the prize of my chalice
You can go away
It’s sunny out today
I don’t need you to compete
With my prowess
I like being happily expressive
It’s so much finer than to be quite pensive
Forgive me if I’m proud
When there’s no one around
I don’t need your vote
My life is kind of nifty
I like being totally chaotic
I get to play and be my own methodic
I can flit to and fro
Wherever I may go
In grandiose
I almost feel bionic
I like being subtly distractive
I realize now no other way I can live
So get out of my way
I’ve got something to say
Though I pine for love
I guess it’s time I shelf it!
_____
A spontaneously created show tune that I came up with one day to help offset the pressures to conform as a woman in today’s society.
_____
(No permissions to use without my direct and verified consent.)
My brain doth tither thither tallie-ho!
“Corben, I-I-I have no juice in my spiiine, Corben!” (Movie “Fifth Element” reference)
L1-L2 disk needs rehydrating, from center-punch rear-ending car accident at a stoplight August 2023.
I am missing an important Oreo (TM) cookie double stuff filling.
“I am Chaos in denial, constantly re-experiencing itself.”
Aren’t we supposed to not “Touch The Piece?!”
(Quote reference: “The Lego Movie”)
As a box suddenly shiftsd on the top bathroom shelf and other items threatened to join as she struggled to rebalance the front layer, the eye renewal cream box adjusted to where the model on its surface was looking around the center divider at her.
Flustered, she declared: “Quit looking at me with your eye-balls!”
“I was thinking you might be into the interstellar theme?”
When things go not well, we can at least laugh at ourselves and the predicaments we may have gotten ourselves into.
Like waddle the last foot toward my car with the flat of records to-be-sold clasped between my knees as I fumble for the keys to open the door.
A form of it, having mopped and cleaned the back end of our house after two months of avoiding due to accident.
Today, I am paying for it with nerves flaring and tendons stick-twitching.
It might be worse, tomorrow., due to delayed effects as come with physical activity.
Nothin’ like being fried by synaptic overstim haze!
(This could be categorized as black comedy…)
“Do you qualify for the senior discount, ma’am?”
“What age is senior?”
“Fifty-five.”
“They are going to have to push that out farther as we live longer!” I quipped.
The cashier laughed.
(Guess it’s near time for me to retire!)
Dressing as a red chiton for cosplay.
Candid Corvid Productions 