My Face on Your Milk Carton: or, how I might disappear;

It’s a certain season and time of day that leads me to have unwholesome thoughts, and it is my car that gives validation to my impulsivity.  Alone I fall victim to my thoughts, my only company apart the music – and sometimes not even that.  Were it not for practicality doing its best to ground me, I would travel without end and with no destination in mind.

You see, it’s not a consequence of any consideration or planning, but rather an arrow on a brilliant sign set high above a highway on ramp that makes empty promises.

Pick me – pick me!” screams the silent metal, horrendously loud, ringing in my ears.

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It’s a Gift and a Curse: or, why it’s so hard being a superhero —

Ok, so I might be exaggerating by calling myself a superherohowever I have had to deal with learning to control my superpower since I was a kid.  And, as wonderful as it is at times, it has also been difficult for me.  No, I’m not talking about being able to fly, become invisible, or even being particularly proficient at martial arts – at least not in the literal sense.

My superpower

is

my brain.

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