WHAT IF THE SUPERHEROES EXISTED....

Say a superhero (I use this term ambiguously) appears. They have powers and have gained a media presence on a social platform like YouTube, making videos and gaining followers, before revealing themselves in public without any evidence to refute their abilities. After their "coming out," they do wish to make the world a better place, but they do so in ways that aren't violent. With no interest in keeping a secret identity and making the world a better place nonviolently, such as charities or - depending on the power - healing things, running a "mega"-marathon to raise money with super speed, using super-intelligence to find a sustainable energy source; what kind of reaction would the immediate public have? The government? How would the world respond to this reveal?I think the hero would have a difficult time, in that case, arranging a suitable 'coming out' appearance. For one thing, it would have to be a live performance. Anything covered on the news or on the Internet would just be more video, wouldn't it? So the hero would have to pick some large venue that already had a lot of people, and then just sort of crash the party.It is really fun seeing all the superheroes those existed in our imaginary world. i would really feel happy to have superheroes

IF I HAD MY OWN PLANET

Great question! I would really love to just pick one at random that had life and see what was there. That would be full of amazing surprises. But, if I was really going to engineer my own planet, here is how my story would start.........

all i need to start with after all my rules; i just need my own rules..... this how i start my planet my planet is to be very enjoyable,with happiness and full of joy. I need no pen nor paper in my world. I need nothing but my imagination.My planet holds other universes, worlds, cities, places, and people all of which I have created. I never have to stop creating.I need everybody in my life but listerning my words don't worry...a few exapetion like family, friends ,etc.In a lovely little city where trees are white as snow with leaves the brightest green, and the shutters on the buildings are pale pastels, to a trek of land, lifeless, that is completely flat red rocks except for one lone silver arrow stuck in the ground shimmering against the burning glare of light from my words.The places are infinitely changeable.There is no point of exhaustion for them. There is not a "No way out" or "One Way" sign. They are endless, with almost a life of their own. It is an escape and jail at the same time. For, once you taste writing in its truest form you are incapable of "just" writing. You can never truly stop writing for being a writer is endless.