My Bae.

I recently saw a post that someone asked “what is the relationship you have with your wheelchair?” Which I thought was a very interesting question. So I got to thinkin, and this is what I’ve come up with.
My wheelchair isn’t something I really think about all day. To some, that may sound weird, to others you might relate. So just hear me out.
I’ve somehow wired my brain to make it feel as though I’m “walking” in my wheelchair. Which clearly isn’t the case. I’m not delusional you guys, I promise.
I do have days that I realize how fucked I would be if I forgot to charge my chair for a night and then my chair dies. Or the possibility of it stop working. Cuz these are possible scenarios that able-bodied people never have to worry about.
I think I have a mutual understanding with my wheelchair that it’s meant to be my “legs.” I understand some people name their chairs and such but… I’m not that much of a fruit. No offense. (:
I love my wheelchair. Sometimes. And other times it just gets in the way or it’s really loud. Like right now for instance, my wheel is deciding to do this thing where it squeaks every time I drive. It’s pretty embarrassing.
Whatever. I also beat the hell out of my chair… I have 2 broken headlights, squeaky wheels, bent anti tip… I pretty much put this chair through hell just to get things done.
If you want to name my chair for me, be my guest. (:

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3 thoughts on “My Bae.

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