And do you not know, my brethren, that we are in fact superheros?

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And do you not know, my brethren, that we are in fact superheros?

Think about it: you are an energy, piloting a meat-craft through spacetime. You suffer the overload of empirical stimulus to a degree unknown by any previous generation, and you maintain a perspective throughout it, casting off that which is not "you," and aligning yourself with a future in which everyone is best off. You forego the impulses and urges of an entire human history of petty, simple hate and fear, stepping back from a fight in the knowledge that you are better off for the avoided complications. You show kindness where you can, and where is most applicable, and not in the sense of an obligation to some god who looks down in judgement, but in the knowledge that we ALL ARE ONE, and when you show kindness to another, you are showing kindness to merely another self.

We who survive the daily urge to end this life, we who know the void, who wear it like a familiar cloak whilst maneuvering through the world of light and hope, having been so broken that it has become a cast, allowing us the temporary support of the ineluctable knowledge of our own smallness and unimportance to carry us into an uncertain future, and the only hope we have is the vague understanding that we don't know that having killed ourselves before is what got us here in the first place... so we arise each morning knowing that we can't know it won't eventually get better.

We are fucking superheroes. We do not hug each other enough. We do not shout congratulatory messages at one another nearly enough. We need a sign of fellowship.

Shoutout to the broken, though - here's to we who will keep going, despite the knowledge that we can't ever know; here's to the fucked in the head, the shattered, the heartsick, the floating, the screaming rage, the weeping sorrow, all of it and all of us - here's to humans, and we will get there someday.

Love.