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Superheroes are Icons,

there is no real substance

behind them,

They exist for one purpose

to fight an imagined evil,

which doesn't exist

They are so far away from reality,

they exist to perpetuate an endless,

meangless narrative.

There is a difference between a character an image,

and its hard to say if superheroes are anything but

images or cartoons.

There is no deeper meaning in comics or superhero

media, it is all the same, with different faces, different

icons, which have stood the test of time.

The majority of movies today have become stale and meaningless. No longer are you getting an original story with complex characters. You are getting a movie that is the equivalent of a 2 hour long commerical. This is especially true for superhero movies, which now only exist to set up other superhero movies. You feel like you are being cheated when you watch these movies, because you feel like your getting the same narrative over and over again: Good v Evil. You feel like these movies are being made in a factory or by commitee. There is no real substance. Everything is derivative. 

Its hard to know what movies are good, because there is so much crap. There is no quality control. The market is over saturated with shit. You watch a trailer for a movie and you get bored. Its the same thing over and over again. You feel like you would be wasting your time, because you feel like you know the end already. 

Its information overload. 

There’s so much noise, at the wave of my hand

It doesn’t matter what I say, I gotta get away

Banished to the sand, left without a voice

See in 40 days, I’m barred for being swayed

To my father’s house,

Past the locked door,

Where I don’t know anymore

No, I just don’t know anymore

So many people run, to huddle in bloody robes

Knowing not anything, but, to hear the angle sing

I’ve walked so many muddy roads, I don’t care who’s won

I’ve got nothing left to bring, I’m waiting on the wings

To Soar over the clouds,

My ears above the restless roar,

That I don’t know anymore,

No, I just don’t anymore

Where is the ceiling, of so many floors,

Its not in a thousand bending boards,

Why has the feeling, of our souls begun to pour

Its not revealing in the angles reward

That I just don’t know anymore

Now while I am kneeling, before closed doors,

Outside the bounds unwound, by ten thousand clanging swords,

To hear those reeling, ready to explore

What’s worth believing, isn’t something you can afford

How much I don’t know anymore

No, No, I can’t just know anymore

What has become of me, or is it you

The end of truth, at the bottom of a noose

Hung up on what to do, not to see

Ruthlessly the toll at the booth

where I don’t know what’s due anymore

For us so many that its for

 Why we don’t know anymore

I just don’t know anymore

Which era do we exactly belong to?

Are you out of your mind? ‘Post-modern’,

I contradict strongly, thumbs down,

The time longs for a fresh name to be given birth to.

Why? What’s wrong with the present one?

Nothing, but it’s needed to mark the blessing of technology,

Along with the greedy consumption of humanity,

By the ‘noisy black hole’ i.e. destruction.

Let me gain from now,

But, let me move on; the question is- how?