As a both physically and mentally disabled person, nonhumanity is pretty fuckin’ loaded for me. I get that for a lot of people, it’s reclamation, but I feel like that got forced on me long before I could even process it.

I’m not excited to be compared to a robot for being monotone, or when the only characters I’d get compared to were robots with wheel-feet because I am a wheelchair user, or cyborgs because I use a cane. I’m not thrilled to be compared to an animal, for having odd arm posture, or when I would crawl around because walking was uncomfortable, or my need to chew on things. When I was so sick and depressed as to be bedbound for weeks at a time, recontextualizing myself as various undead things brought me no closer to comfort with myself. All of these things feel like only having The Big Bang Theory to keep me company.

It actively depresses me to be told that humans are boring, that nonhumans are better. Transhumanism is a fantasy that I will never achieve, and what I get out of these interactions is the impression that people will never like me until I am Healed in a way that also, coincidentally, happens to be more sexually appealing to them.

I am aware that my sickness makes people uncomfortable.

I will continue to make my boring ugly yucky human art, because it’s epic and cool actually. When I am comfortable enough to draw sexy werewolves or horny dialup noises or whatever, you will be respectful of the underlying disabled humanity it reflects, or else I will make you read another really long text post.