#thanksspidey

[amostexcellentblog]

superheroes were better before people decided they had to be awkward and constantly dropping pop culture references.

[bob-coffee]

Not a poem

… I haven’t written anything poetic in awhile,but this isn’t gonna be another poem with double entendres and poetic justice. This is just some real sh*t. Most writers/comedians tend to come up their best material when their going through bouts of depression. I definitely was/am going through some of the deepest bouts of depression Ive had since I was a kid. I’ve danced with the thoughts of suicide several times within the past few months. I’ve done things that are very uncharacteristic of myself. I’ve grown to have this anger towards the world though I feel like it’s justified. I’ve felt/feel so alone in the world though I’m surrounded by so many people who love me and will do so much for me. Yet,I’m in this place where I have to sometimes force a smile and crack jokes to get through my day. It’s been one of the worse years of my life. I’m emotionally/physically tired of a lot. I still keep moving though. I tend to ask myself “why!?” I keep moving because people need me. I’m the guy my friends/family/spouse/whatever come to for anything. Though the option is there for me,I’ve been proven time and time that the street isn’t exactly 2 ways. So,I stick to myself and be everyone’s superhero. There comes a time when the hero needs saving. A hero is prideful,so he/she will never call for help but only hopes that someone will notice the clues they leave. I’m ok now though. I’m not as sad but I’m not exactly happy. I have a lot of good things going for me,but I’ve heard somewhere that “a man who has it all can still be lonely” Read/watch The Great Gastby. That’s one of the basic premises of it,honestly.lol One day,I won’t feel this lonely. Maybe. I’m too independent,too prideful,and full of cliches. I definitely can say Spider-Man is my role model for handling life sh*t. If he can do it while also maintaining a dual identity then I can too. - Gregorio

[jesikahelizabeth]

Seven years. It's been almost a year since I last saw you. Two months since I last heard from you. Yet, every night I still dream about you. I see you, but I don't. I always see pieces of you. Your eyes. Your crooked smile and your crooked teeth. The way it felt to hold your hand. Running my fingers through your beard. Tracing the curls of your hair with my finger tips. Making pancakes in your apartment on a Saturday morning. I'll never understand why you're all over my skin. I can't scrub you off of it. I just can't help but pray to God that you weren't my only chance in life.