blue1risfl0wer

[blue1risfl0wer]

how is broke high school/college kid Peter managing all of Queens?

I was reading a Spiderman fanfic that had Spiderman traveling into Hell’s Kitchen to help out daredevil while he was injured, and I had to take a pause and do some online reading. Queens is 14 miles away from Hell’s Kitchen; which is a lot for Peter to swing. Also, Queens is supposedly 108 square miles, which is fucking ginormous. For reference, LA to Carlsbad is 94 miles, and takes at least 2 hours to travel. Granted, Queens doesn’t have the highest crime rates in NY, but Spider-Man isn’t about stopping major crime, he’s about helping the average person. Spider-Man is about saving someone from being mugged or helping an old lady cross the street, which there will always be someone in need of that kinda help. I really want to see a fic really explore the exhaustion Peter must feel all day everyday from helping everyone he can in a 54 miles radius. The deep eye bags, the slowness/jitteriness, the gaps in memory, the unshakable weariness in his voice, the off-kilter movement, all of that stuff. Just a fix that really explored the tiredness of being Spider-Man.

[blue1risfl0wer]

Don’t you wish people would tell you to your face why they hate you?

Maybe it’s just a me thing, but I really wish people would just tell me what their issues with me are. I would love to hear what people disliked about me so I could work on fixing it; I feel like in so many situations a person will hate me and I’ll have no idea what it is that I need to fix. Like if someone could tell me that they didn’t like me because I infodump all the time, I would make a conscious effort to stop doing that. I used to think I was really good about picking up on social cues and stuff but lately I’ve been feeling like I’ve been missing what everyone else has been saying.

[blue1risfl0wer]

Cathedrals have always been sanctuaries for all in name, yet their doors are quick to shut when ‘undesirables’ come knocking.

[blue1risfl0wer]

If in death my atheist beliefs are proven wrong; I shall not beg for forgiveness. God shall grovel at my feet. If God cannot prove His existence in life, why would I accept Him in death.

[blue1risfl0wer]

Was it worth it?

When you look in the mirror and don’t recognize yourself, do you ask if it was worth it? Do you reflect on the death of yourself past? Can you even identify when you became a stranger to yourself? Do you stare into the both familiar and foreign eyes presented in the mirror with nihilism or optimism? Was it worth it?