It’s important to talk about how vaccines don’t cause autism, but can we please also talk about how much people must hate autism if they’d rather expose their child to polio, measles and chickenpox than autism?
THIS. I feel like asking every anti-vac parent “Why would you rather have a dead child than an autistic one?” I think these parents ought to explain their stance to a group of autistic adults.
Vaccines did not cause my brother to have autism. He was born, he is who he is, and that’s all there is to it. Is it harder to connect with him? Yes. But I love him so much that the extra barrier to him doesn’t bother nor irritate or even stop me in the slightest from continuing to reach out to him and to be his big sister. I have always been by his side as an equal, he has sat beside me and patted my back because some stupid boy broke my heart. And sometimes, when we talk, he tells me how silly I sound when I worry. He also follows up with a clever joke to make me laugh. Because he believes in the good of the world and even though he has lost two fathers, he is still strong and optimistic.
Now tell me, how terrible would it be if your child grew up to be like him?
I have a blog where I actually showcase some of my writing and post prompts and tips on creative writing that have helped me so I feel may help out other writers.
Check it out: http://allisonstutzka.wordpress.com/
I feel as though I’ve spent the past few years talking. Just sitting in a room, open and closing my mouth and allowing words to carry me through day by day. It never really mattered what pattern they came out in, just the rope dragging me across each interraction. Just one more line and I can go to sleep. Then it will be tomorrow and I can preach about the things I wish I would do all over again, but maybe I’ll change up the tune a little. Sing song about this job I’d probably be good at if I ever took the time to actually study what it really takes to do said imaginary job. Or maybe how I’m going to start treating my life with more delicacy, not throwing myself blindly into each and every situation, stumbling through and somehow finding the light switch. I am not who I say, I am only an idea. A thought of how I’d like to be. I’m hoping, when I wake up in 2014 that I might make a different turn somehow.
Maybe learn how to dance instead.
Loathing and disgust are wasted actions. There’s something to love about each and every person. No matter how narrow minded they may seem, they have something to contribute to this planet. We all have our own paths and our own way of traveling down them. Everyone has their own battles, too. You have no idea what’s going on in someone else’s head. So don’t assume someone has it better or worse than you do. To each individual, their own personal life can either be a heaven or hell. And it has nothing to do with the life you live. Be kind to everyone. Be patient. Be true.
I need to learn how to be alone, because that’s something I’m probably going to be quite often. Some girls envy those others they see in these long term, cute relationships in high school. But when they end, and when you realize you can’t hold one down afterwards, it’s so hard to be just by yourself. You’ve lost that friendship you’ve spent building for those years and are just you. And you don’t even know who that is or how you’re supposed to behave. Other people have these friends that are more like family, and when they were building those relationships I was building my life with some guy I thought would be there forever because he said he would. And ever since I lost that I’ve been looking for it somewhere else. I just need to get to know me, but for some reason it scares me to death. Why? Because I feel that I’m the complete opposite of who I’ve been acting like for the past year. Which, I feel, is why I can’t find the right guy or the right crowd of friends. I’m very quiet and shy. I like to read books instead of taking bong hits. I prefer to go the whole day without a sip of caffeine than chugging energy drinks to keep myself up from a night of raging. I’m not saying I haven’t had fun doing those things, but it’s not me. And I feel like I’ve been fighting myself. I can now see what they mean when they say alcoholism is hereditary. I’m so much like that man, and I hate it. I used to be like my mother, but as I’ve gotten older the more I’ve allowed myself to digress into his poor habits. It’s so hard to say no now. And that scares me. I look at my grades and I know I can do better. I’m going to go sleep on this, but I just hate that I’ve been feeling like an enemy to myself lately and I feel that no one really understands the constant battle I have inside my head. It seems to easy to make the “right” choice, but when it comes down to it I just roll over and do what everyone else is doing. Because that’s what’s “accepted” in today’s society. I don’t think I have enough time to really go in depth about this. I can reference books, reality television shows, and plenty of first person accounts to prove that we are heading towards the dystopia Bradbury and Orwell warned us about. And I’m a drone that’s fallen victim to it, but like Guy Montag..I’ve tripped on the pill bottle and I can finally see that this isn’t the world I want to be apart of.
From this day forward I will no longer apologize for the life I have and the things that I enjoy and choose to have in it. If I want to chop all of my hair off, fine. If I like to play online games with strangers, awesome. I’m not going to cover up who I am because I think someone is going to either be offended by it or think I’m strange. If you’re not down with the strange, quirky, blunt, upfront person that I am then I have no room for you. I’m happy with who I am. :)
All I hear is noise. Just a buzz through my ears, no real words or emotions. Just noise. People lie. All the time. You can think you know someone, so well, but one little release of the truth and the whole image you had painted up inside your head of them comes tumbling down.
Everything is turning around for me. But when I look up from my own feet, I see everyone I care about bursting into flames. Everything that could go wrong, is. I don’t know how to help other than just giving them my time and love. I feel horrible. I want to make everything okay, I want to make the hospitals, the bills, the crazy ex’s, the homelessness, I want to fix it all and make it stop. I wish there was an app for that. :(
and they’ve already been shipped, oh my goodness this means I can rock them for my first week back at uni. Excited doesn’t even cover how I feel right now.
I didn’t know what black milk was..so I googled it. Now I wish I didn’t because my paycheck is going to be going towards satisfying all of the needs I have just accumulated by looking at this site. Holy bat balls.
But when a guy starts hitting on me, or talking to me, I know exactly what they’re trying to get. And it just makes me feel like shit. Is that all I am? Is that all I can offer you? I hope to meet someone who doesn’t think of fucking me when they first meet me, or when they’ve had too much to drink. I want them to see me and think, “I wonder if she likes Star Wars..” Or something a bit more innocent than, “If I get her drunk enough, I wonder if she’ll give me a handjob.” I’m a person. I’m smart, funny, I like stupid t.v. shows about pot smoking dogs, I like to clean when I’m stressed, I pick flowers on my way to work, I read at least 5 books a year, I love talking about social issues, I drink my coffee black, and I am deathly afraid of bees. I just want to meet a good looking guy who I can get along with. Someone who won’t make me fall in love with them and then toss me aside. The cute guy down the street seems nice, but that’s what I said last time. Fuck it all, I don’t want anyone. It all just gets screwed up in the end.