“All truth passes through three stages: First, it is ridiculed; Second, it is violently opposed; Third, it is accepted as self-evident.”
Disability-Time: I am waiting for the third truth.
Crippled people are still trapped in the ridicule and violence stages.
And Truth circles like a crow, waiting for ridicule and violence to expire for then they can be eaten, digested, and expelled.
Happy the man, woman, child, “they” or “it” who, like the crow, has eliminated the past.
Fox says: “But Crow, don’t you need the past so you won’t repeat it?”
Crow says: “Truth is now, dude.”
Crow says: “Shit on your whole mortifying, imaginary, and symbolic theater!” (Crow loves Deleuze)
Meanwhile disability is the animal I’m sheltering.
I shelter it in my spine and fingers. In my eyes and hair.
I’m tired of fighting for servitude, really.
Up this morning early. Everything I touch belongs to someone else. I can hear truth in the high branches.