A Storming Thought

You and I share a body. That is quite unfortunate because I hate you as I’m sure you must hate me in return. It is because of this sole fact that I know that we are not the same person. How could one be so diametrically opposed in both action and thought unless they were, in fact, two people? I am nothing like you and you are nothing like me but yet here we are. Forced to be bound together in this mortal vehicle. Unable to escape one another no matter how much we may wish for it.  We never speak to one another. That's not entirely true. I speak. You are silent. You talk to others and sometimes in moments of temporary truce, you decide to talk for me but never to me. I wonder if you have that ability at all. To return conversation and engage in dialogue. Maybe you do speak just not in words. That must be it because I can feel you. Your anger, anxiety, and fear. Those rare and precious moments of happiness. I feel it all. You have known very few moments of peace and they are far be...

Age has made me increasingly less patient. I had been standing in the hallway outside the examination room playing on my phone while the nurse got the chart prepared. In the span of five minutes, the typical social media apps had somehow left me both anxious and annoyed. After responding to six comments of varying levels of ignorance and malice I was pacing to work off the excess anxiety. During the walk, I fiddled with the stiff fingers on my right hand. I despise confrontation above most things. It often makes me feel judged and looked down upon, but it is a necessity. The sound of steps joined my own as Nurse Bailey approached with a metal clipboard. She handed it over but stopped maybe an inch short of my hand when she got a clear look at my face. The brows furrowed, the eyes narrowed, and the mouth became a hard line. She let out a loud snap that demanded my attention. “Hey. Focus up. You’re helping people remember.” Her voice was edged which spiked the anxiety in me even higher, ...

          Superheroes are amazing. That's a belief I've held for most of my life. This particular philosophy of mine stems from two specific sources. The first and likely the most influential comes from my father, who introduced me to superhero media at a young age. His own childhood had been filled with the colorful costumes and fantastical powers that decorated his comic book collection. When we watched cartoon shows together or when he gave me a detailed history lesson on a particular hero, it was a way for the two of us to bond over a shared interest and for me to glimpse into his past. His love for the genre, specifically DC Comics, was passed on to me as a type of inter-generational heirloom. I will always have a deep appreciation and love for superhero media.      The second reason superheroes have held my interest over the years is the Titanic battles—literal and metaphorical- between good and evil. Overall, I've always maintained th...