golden cube


I live two lives. The first, as Oliver Queen, may seem enviable, as i hover over everyone in my penthouse apartment, my top-floor office, golden cubes of light higher than fear or danger can reach. But with every passing days that world feels less comfortable, and that man–the playbloy, the CEO of Queen Industries–, feels like more of an obnoxious stranger. I prefer the company of the streets. I prefer the description of social justice warrior.