cripples belong no where

this came to me when I was going down the stairs to my room and a woman was down at the bottom knocking on my neighbor’s door. no one was coming. in the mean time, I was plopping down the stairs at the rate of one stair per minute. she was stairing at me. I was giving her the heebie jeebies. it made me feel like apologizing. it made me feel like saying, oh so sorry for wigging you out.

that’s when it hit me:



I’ve felt this unconsciously all my yeshiva. in ad agencies. whore houses

one time at a cash machine, I was having problem getting out my bank card. some cranky menstruating guy on the line kvetched at me, “‘ hey what are doing? what are you doing not at home?”

this fucker – because he was a fucker and couldn’t give a rat’s-ass about hurting my feelings, said what is going on in a lot of peoples mind but what they are too nice too ever, ever blurt out. everybody, or mostly everybody, would rather our unsightly bottoms be out of sight. we only make ugly the passing scenery. people feel we are a kind of an ambulatory open puss—filled wound.

I should know cause I’m ashamed to admit it but I feel the same way when I see a stray palsy sputtering about town. I say to myself, oh shit, what is this freak doing out on the street. it’s so unsightly, its ruining my Sunday and my double-scoop ice cream cone. and, my god, this poor son-of-a-bitch it going to fall, get run over, or pick-pocketed. he should be taken away to a safe and far-removed palsy preserve

so if I’m thinking like this, I can only imagine what the average joe is thinking.

(Yea, I know, being palsied myself, I got my own special warpness issues, like denial, self-hate, and identification with the aggressor, that causes me to want my type to be swept away. its kind of like a Kapo in a concentration camp or a black Uncle Tom. But still, i must insist that a good hunk of my disgust for seeing the palsied, is exactly the way most regulars react to them.)

there are many ways to counter these feeling of self-disgust. one way is for me to be counter phobic. That means I put, intrude, and insist myself, davka, into places and situations where cripples normally don’t show. In situation which freak me out, like finding myself in a room full of unknowns, instead of going off terrified to a corner and pretending to be looking at the tiles or the titles on the bookshelves, I insinuate myself into the crowd and in a trance I find myself making some comment loudly whether anyone’s listening to me or not.

another solution for me is to plunk myself into the middle of a large city. I feel that my cripple ugliness is almost drowned out by the massive sea of vast human liquidity. that’s why I love places like new york or the shuk. they’re too crazy and chaotic for people to notice or care. I mean I can’t compete with a stand full of lush, gigantic fresh strawberries. or in new york new york, a homeless blind guy singing “I did it my way.

I want to mess up the scenery for everyone but especially for myself. and fuck the whole disgusted world.