Further Up and Further In

Here's an easy question: who's your favorite superhero? You probably have one whether you're 5 or 65 since we've been inundated with superhero stories, comics, and movies for decades. Our country and our world clearly adore these stories (how many Marvel movies are we at now?). We all know the set up. A big problem occurs. Something must be done or [insert seriously terrible consequences]. Protagonist is the only option. Protagonist fights/quests/does both and succeeds! The side characters, villains, and backstories make each story unique. For whatever reason superhero movies have never been my jam (my current total is 4). Perhaps why I don't gravitate towards them is because they feel too close to home. I'm already fighting my own fight. I don't desire to watch someone else's as flashy and cool as it may be. I've been told that I'm the only one fighting for myself for most of my life. It's a challenging and lonely place, why do you think the

Look at the hopeful color of that! What? You can’t see the color? Why not?! You’re colorblind so… that means you can’t see certain colors. Oh no, there is such a multitude of beautiful, vibrant, pulsating, tangible colors such as hope, love, grace, and more! I wish you could see them… Wait, you can still see some colors, right? Which ones? Ahh, I understand. Yes, I see them too. The color of discouragement. Slow thunder greys and murky space blues. Shoulders slumping down in swamp greens and the brownness of heads bowing under the weight.  The color of COVID. Light blue and black crinkliness of masks. Blinding white starkness of hospitals. Too perky greens and yellows of disinfectant and cleaning supplies.  The color of burnout. Frenetic highlighter yellow and snappy pink of planners and calendars. Reddish orange fire-glow of zeal dying into white black embers of exhaustion. Sickly jaundice of anxiety.  Simmering crimson of anger. Sacred aubergine of lament and waiting.  Slow fade to