#go for walks

[cowbot-lumberjane]

traditional working out is stupid, find ways to make it fun. Deadass, get some martial arts pads and go to town on each other with a friend. Invest in a foam block pad or a punching bag and beat the shit out of it for 30 mins every other day. do morning stretches and go on an hour long walk/hike. lift your dog. run with your dog for 15 minutes twice a day. exercise has been made out to be some fucking rigid ritual that involves so much time/equipment/technique. you can literally just move around. play fucking wii sports for an hour but get REALLY into the movements of the sport. dance with a friend or by yourself for a while. walk around your neighborhood, go look for birds or flowers. make fake swords with pool noodles and PVC pipe and start a backyard swordfighting club with your friends. do whatever the fuck you want, there's no CORRECT way to be active. The policing of workout culture and whats properly "healthy" be it body types, body fat, workout routine, or eating habits is one of the dumbest fucking things on EARTH. Go have fun. I fucking hate working out as in: lifting weights, going to a gym, using exercise machines. I LOVE exercising as in: swimming, hiking, hitting my friends with things that wont actually hurt them, playing with my dog. YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT FOREVER. ANY AMOUNT OF ACTIVITY IS GOOD ACTIVITY. KILL THE GYM TEACHER IN YOUR BRAIN.

[ukulelegodparent]

I think I need to go to a Kurort and chill

[jonotmac]

Being human is somehow so difficult and so simple.

Franz Kafka, 1912

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[greykolla-art]

Yeah I think you’re in the right place, Al.

[amazingmagda]

I can't stand her "music" but this is a VERY good advice! xd

[thebluestcowboy]

We’re going to hear a lot of stupid bullshit over the next few days/months/years about how Harris/the Democrats failed to win over men, or young people, or uneducated voters, or those worried about the economy, or whatever….but the truth is this: this country hates women and minorities; its citizens understand fuck all about the economy; and the people are incredibly susceptible to outright lies, scams and fascist values

[ionomycin]

Grief

ref photo by @jawsstone

[haveihitanerve]

I have this idea/theory that like when Bruce was just starting out, early twenties, “im going to make a difference!” batman, he was like known, somewhat, by at least most of the crinimals, oh some dude dressed as a bat beat up larry the other day? Hm. skill issue. Type of thing..

And then one night, theres a goon on patrol for some little operation. A more… violent goon lets say. And Bruce lands in front of him, cape billowing, white eyes narrowed, and the goon is like “shiii he does look pretty cool. Fuck ‘im tho.” and he does what any other goon would do, he pulls out his gun and fires. Once. Twice. Three times. 

He sees the bullets make contact. Watches as they hit the suit. Go through it. Because this is still prototype four or five, its not fully kevlar, atp its still basically just cloth with some armor in certain places. 

The goon can see blood circles forming where the bullets hit. Blood drips to the floor. But Bruce? Bruce keeps on walking towards him, not a limp or waver in his step. Because its Gotham. Because if he wasn't willing and prepared to get shot at he should've picked a different city. 

And thats when The Bat becomes infamous. Because what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck he just keeps coming- i shot him three times-!

And years later, when Dick is on clean up duty as punishment for some elaborate stunt he pulled, organizing old files and plugging them into the batcomputer, he finds the file. And holy shit. Thats- actually kinda cool…

[all-my-crap]

s’alright, it was a pretty small chance he would’ve gotten hit

[egophiliac]

did this as a quick scribble at like 1 AM last night and...immediately lost all motivation to ever clean it up. ( ᐛ ) but I had to draw my son being the fanciest little flower boy who ever threw petals down an aisle. oh my god.

[fury161]

🔆

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Yeah, I don't know about you, Fidds, but I'd fold at this 🙏

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[jeena-says-hi]

Magnus Archives au where Jon just REALLY loves birdwatching

“Supplemental, on my way to the archives today, I saw a bullfinch fly out from the hedges outside the cafe, it was a nice surprise. Anyways, I think all my assistants want to kill me”