Monday, December 28, 2015

Saw no one but was ready for smug deflection

Whenever you return to where you grew up there's a chance you'll run into someone from high school.

It didn't happen.

But I was ready, so ready, to simply say "Oh, I work for X—but that's boring—tell me about you."

Why? Because I already won. I don't need to talk about my life because nothing they can say can top me.

Weird body and weird mind blended together with wonders, baby. 

It's pretty kewl. 

I read super hero comics as a kid—there's about three years of assorted Spiderman and X-Men comics from the '90s in my dad's roof—but I never saw a character glory in their heroism, even secretly. Like not even a thought bubble of "Fuck me, I saved a bunch of people today—I matter. I fucking matter". There was no introspection about the fact that they were in the arena and because they were in they arena they fucking mattered. 

They should have that for super heroes in comics, think bubbles of satisfaction of using their powers for good. Because to walk around knowing what you've done has value and has had an impact is mind blowing. Utterly mind blowing. 

It's a good feeling, a lodestone against the grim impact of anxiety on body and mind. I cling to it like a shipwreck survivor in a life preserver ring. 


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