August 28, 2018

Three years ago I buried my mother and started my new life.  I’m a man now.  Life will never be easy with my responsibilities and a career.  There will always be problems and disappointments.  I broke a finger from an electric wheelchair accident.  It’s painful, but the pain is nothing compared to what my roommate experienced a month ago.  I turned down a book offer from a self-publisher.  The publisher wanted one thousand dollars to publish it, my beneficiary agency won’t allow me to use my trust fund because I can’t make a profit with that money.  The government won’t help me and my fixed income isn’t enough to the publisher.  I’m a failure but doesn’t matter people don’t buy my books.  I’m a great guy to people.  I have started writing another book for my agent.  I don’t quit.  Someday I will succeed.  I’m the second Cerebral palsy alive author in the world!  Yesterday, I saw a classmate at the Memorial Union dropping off her son at the university.  My classmates know what I have done  .And that’s the only thing matters.



August 20, 2018

Life is a Ferris wheel.  It goes around and around, but we don’t know when it will stop.  We had a funeral for my roommate and six people showed up for a cookout.  Food was everywhere.  I took a nap.  My roommate’s brother didn’t even come.  It hurts to see that.  I’m exhausted.  Marketing the newest manuscript to agents and publishers.  A play is read by a theater.  And a short story has been submitted to the Chicago Writer’s Association.  A friend of mine has been nagging me to write the book for years.  Hopefully my agent will say yes.  The goal is New York.  I will have another manuscript finished in eight months.  I’m crazy.  When my time comes, I will have done something with my life.  There’s no one like me.  Shut up, John.  I’m the author.  My funeral will fill a theater.  You will run out of food because Dave will eat it all.  My sisters will be angry at me with the all of the women.  That’s what I want – a big party with laughter.

Three years

August 14, 2018

August 9, 2018

My roommate passed away last week.  He needed to go.  He was in agony.  I told him to go and I asked God to take him in Olin Park on a hill, overlooking Lake Mendota.  It is beautiful with the water and the downtown in the distance.  I wrote a poem for his funeral but I didn’t know much about him.  I did care about Danny.  The house is empty without him but it is not like Mom.  It’s different.  Part of me wanted to trade places but I needed and wanted here.  My life is just beginning.  A new friend of mine told me that he wanted to kill himself.  I told him that I love him.  He said, “Okay, I’ll stay for you.” After hearing the zipper of the body bag, I want to live more than ever.  Life is so short.  What is the meaning of life, I wonder?  Everywhere that I went I ran into friends.  I’m loved by a lot of people.  Another friend said I have grown so much.  When I’m out in the world alone, I have to know right from wrong.  Some people have problems that I don’t want.  I don’t want to die for a long time.

Disability Pride

August 2, 2018

I attended the Disability Pride Festival on Saturday, selling my books.  A disabled woman organizes it.  It’s a yearlong process which she does herself with the help of disabled women.   She is seen on her motor scooter, riding around the park, making sure that everything is going well throughout the day.  On my way home, I overheard a person talking about her.  “She was up at five and works all year on this.  I don’t know how she does it.”  Passion and drive are what some disabled people lack.  Society teaches people to be content.  We should be happy with what we have.  Dreams are just dreams.  The American dream doesn’t apply to us.  I will succeed one day because I don’t care what I have to do to reach my goals.