November 21, 2012

It’s the two-year anniversary of my nonverbal friend’s death.  I have so many questions and so few answers.  I have thought a lot about why he committed suicide and I am writing about it in a new novel.  People told me that he wanted to walk.  That he killed himself to walk in heaven. No. That wasn’t the reason. The State killed him with its stupid rules and paperwork.  The State says I have to work to be eligible to receive home care.  The State says I am unemployable.  But I need to work or help people because my social security is too high.  The State says that I can’t have many assets.  The State says I can’t make more than nine hundred dollars a year.  The State tells me where I can live. The State takes its own sweet time when I need a wheelchair or a computer.  I am a number to the State.  But I will write until my last breath fighting for change. 


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