And so it Goes

Being a superhero is hard work. it is a thankless, endless job that you are committed to with no days off, no pay, no vacations. It wears down the spirit, which is all we superheroes have, in the end. No matter what the power or gift, it is the spirit that drives you to do better, to help your fellow person and to dig deep within yourself to persevere in times of duress. I have recently found myself meandering through my days, questioning the reasons for why I do what I do. In the still of pre-dawn I lay awake in my lair, pondering the possibilites of this life that I have chosen. Will I ever get to the end of this road? What is my desired ending? Can I ever move away from this life to a simpler existence? Could I just walk away from an altercation? Could I let an old lady get pushed around by some ignoramus because I am just too tired, too jaded?

What is it about this life that I find so repulsive and intoxicatingly addictive? Who granted me the authority to claim this that is now my oath that I have sworkn to defend the defenseless? Since when did my voice and deed ring out so much more loudly than the other voices of reason that I should take this position and hold fast to it, defending it to its core, at the risk of personal sacrifice and loss?

truth is. I don't know.