I went back to dig up this post because I was thinking about poetry.

Kept thinking about this ever since I saw it and had to do something

I need you all to see what I mean

“A daffodil bulb will divide and redivide endlessly. That’s why, like the peony, it is one of the few flowers you can find around abandoned farmhouses, still blooming and increasing in numbers fifty years after the farmer and his wife have moved to heaven, or the other place, Boca Raton. If you dig up a clump when no one is nearby and there is no danger of being shot, you’ll find that there are scores of little bulbs in each clump, the progeny of a dozen or so planted by the farmer’s wife in 1942. If you take these home, separate them, and plant them in your own yard, within a couple of years, you’ll have a hundred daffodils for the mere price of a trespassing fine or imprisonment or both. I had this adventure once, and I consider it one of the great cheap thrills of my gardening career. I am not advocating trespassing, especially on my property, but there is no law against having a shovel in the trunk of your car.” 

I clicked the link because I enjoyed this quote and was not disappointed

THE POMPOUS FOP has declined your gift.

This pizza was made over here in Brazil and I’m happy to inform everyone that the method they used to get the toppings over the whole dough evenly is just slightly less funny than what the last poster in the thread suggested:

“One of the poets, whose name I cannot recall, has a passage, which I am unable at the moment to remember, in one of his works, which for the time being has slipped my mind, which hits off admirably this age-old situation.”

i am so so gently asking abled storytellers to try this little exercise: consider that maybe the main character doesn't miraculously get through traumatic event number 8277 with minor injuries. maybe they don't make a full, narratively-convenient recovery. there are tangible, long-term effects on their health. they are disabled. there are lots of ways to be disabled, and you can pick whatever makes the most sense. the point is that because they're the main character, they have to stay at the heart of the narrative. what happens to your story after that? just for the sake of this exercise, you're not allowed to have them spiral into helpless depression, or collapse under self-loathing, or turn their story into a quest for a cure or an uplifting recovery narrative. think it through instead. how can you tell this story with the character's disability? what needs to change? are there any reasons why these changes can't happen?