Last night was the Season 2 finale of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I enjoyed it way more than the second Avengers movie, which K and I saw opening weekend in XD 3D because of my fear of Twitter spoilers and tie-ins with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
I'm sad that the season is over until end of Summer/Fall. I'm left considering the whole conflict of sympathy for the devil. For being based on a comic book genre, the characters are more complex the longer they remain on the show. Good people are really not squeaky clean while villains have hearts of gold below the deranged back stories.
Fiction. My life is nothing to really broadcast. I'm neither hero nor villain. I'm a work in progress, if anything. So much I cannot change for I am old and content, but I can guide my offspring towards things of meaning rather than leave them to their own devices to wander hollowly with sit-coms as a means of enlightenment in the ways of the world.
My son is 11, but still has an essence of innocence about him. I want him to be happier than me, but he's got a certain indifference to the things I longed to have when I was his age. I was utterly lonely, while he is perfectly content with his comics and video games.
My television distractions are on hiatus, so I can divert my attention to the children I've mildly neglected. Hopefully, I obstain from blogging and sleeping in excess to fill the tv void.
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