when i woke up this morning, my first thought was ‘no one visits my grave anymore’ and i was really sad for a few minutes so i lay on my bed with my eyes shut and then all of a sudden i opened my eyes and was like ‘wait i don’t have a grave what the fuck’

are you okay

Am I Ever?

The Defenders: How Shall We Get to the Boardroom?

Danny “White Privilege” Rand: Shows up in a suit, gets escorted in by security.
Luke “Harlem’s Hero” Cage: Busting in like the Kool-Aid Man
Matthew “Vigilantism as an addiction metaphor” Murdock: unnecessary staircase parkour with a scarf on his face
Jessica Goddamn Jones: Takes the fucking elevator like a normal-ass person, what is wrong with you people

Our time is recursive and forking. Our time is a garden in which all realities are simultaneously possible. All paths are truly one path. From the time of birth to the time of death, every word you utter is part of one long sentence. This sentence is utterly, heartbreakingly unique. Never before and never again. yet they, in ensemble, create One Sentence. It holds and houses us. Announces and defends us. Blesses and confesses us. Curses and condemns.

Sun Yung Shin in “The Other Asterion,” in Penumbrae.