I Brood Like a Super Hero

I sit alone in a dark room and think about the horror that is the human condition. I don’t just sit, I crouch. I crouch and wait, dark thoughts running through my mind as I observe the darkness around me. Evil is afoot in the night. I hate it almost as much as I hate myself. Self loathing fuels my crusade.

Okay, so I probably shouldn’t try to write super heroes. I know that now. I’m a little melodramatic. I can’t help it. Despite being almost 30, I’m still actually a teenager at heart. It probably doesn’t help that I spend way too much time watching teenage soap operas that pretend to be about super heroes. I can’t help it.


I feel better having admitted that to the Internet. I know I’m not alone. I know I walk a thin line. There is very little separating Arrow from The Vampire Diaries, and once you cross that line… It’s a slippery slope all the way down to Gossip Girl. From there I’m flanked by Glee and before I know it… One Life To Live has me in it’s grasps!

I don’t blame myself, though. I blame the Writer’s strike.

Years ago, there was a diversity of television shows. All of those shows were replaced by Chuck Lorre, Singing and Dancing Competitions, and Police Procedurals that I can predict the end of in the first 10 minutes.

That leaves me with Holmsian detectives with really bad Deus Ex Machina writing and teenage melodramas about super heroes.

You know what…

I just need to get out more.

Out to crouch in the dark and think about the evils in my city!