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Sandra Jean-Pierre | Digital Artist & Writer of Words.

Author: SandraJP

Disabled Chronicles – COVID-19 Edition, No.23

That one time you steal out yo house to make a quick trip to Walgreens to get some OTC meds cause you ran out and though delivery would have been optimal it was 1) too expensive and b) wouldn’t arrive until next week 🙄 So you convince yourself that the quick trip would be worth it and you head out at top speed, causing your front wheels to rattle like they about to give up on life, while you watching

Disabled Chronicles – COVID-19 Edition, No.20

Ya know… there’s a whole bunch of new folx out here during this COVID19 situation who are feeling a whole lot of panicked and uncomfortable around being food insecure, housing insecure and unsure how they’re gonna meet their bills because what they have coming in, won’t meet what they have to spend. A whole lot of folks having to deal with being home and being afraid for their health because other folks won’t do their part to help everyone be

Disabled Chronicles, No2e1

I casually came to know his name. He was next up to get dosed after my trial at the hospital. When I bid my awesome nurses goodbye until my next maintenance dose, I cheered on Joe (not his real name) and wished him (in absentia) and the team of nurses well and good luck. If the medication worked half as well for him as it did for me, I knew what kind of life changing experiences he was lined up

Disabled Chronicles, No.2e

Her finger landed in the space between my eyes gently, like a soft cat paw, sending a hush of quiet energy through my body and mind. “In meditation they tell Us to tap and focus here…” She couldn’t have known about the year I spent in meditation study under the Sant Mat tradition with Steve. And how before he doula’d us into the sacred silence of meditation following the teachings of Saint Kirpal Singh, he’d touch the same space between

Black Women Tears

There are tears Black Women shed, that speak of every disappointment and hurt that’s brought her to this very moment. They are tears of anguish and sometimes despair that maybe encompass never being regarded as precious, even as a GirlBaby or a WomanChild. They are tears of anger for having to do more, be more, give more and yet never being met where she stands, much less where she cries. They are tears of revolution for her gifts being plundered

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