“If a person can’t get out of bed, something is making them exhausted. If a student isn’t writing papers, there’s some aspect of the assignment that they can’t do without help. If an employee misses deadlines constantly, something is making organization and deadline-meeting difficult. Even if a person is actively choosing to self-sabotage, there’s a reason for it — some fear they’re working through, some need not being met, a lack of self-esteem being expressed. People do not choose to fail or disappoint. No one wants to feel incapable, apathetic, or ineffective. If you look at a person’s action (or inaction) and see only laziness, you are missing key details. There is always an explanation. There are always barriers. Just because you can’t see them, or don’t view them as legitimate, doesn’t mean they’re not there. Look harder. Maybe you weren’t always able to look at human behavior this way. That’s okay. Now you are. Give it a try.”
(And a footnote I didn’t see explicitly covered in the article: laziness still doesn’t exist when it is you yourself making no progress and not knowing why. You deserve that respect and consideration, too, even from yourself.)
“As you read a book word by word and page by page, you participate in its creation, just as a cellist playing a Bach suite participates, note by note, in the creation, the coming-to-be, the existence, of the music. And, as you read and re-read, the book of course participates in the creation of you, your thoughts and feelings, the size and temper of your soul.”
I have this planner with these absolutely ridiculous pages with like “motivational” quotes on them that are just these bullshit things like “Let your heart sing” and “Always believe in your dreams”
and like that’s always struck me as such meaningless bullshit, I’ve always hated those. They’ve never had that element that truly motivates me.
So, I took matters into my own hands and I made my own artsy motivational wallpapers. Enjoy.
have i seriously lived long enough to experience the resurgence of demotivational posters’s natural evolution into shitposting motivationals
“I used to believe that the human race as a whole was basically a few steps above wolves. That given the slightest change in circumstances, we would all, sooner or later, tear each other to shreds. That we were, at root, self-interested, cowardly, envious and potentially dangerous in groups. I have since come to believe — after many meals with many different people in many, many different places — that though there is no shortage of people who would do us harm, we are essentially good. That the world is, in fact, filled with mostly good and decent people who are simply doing the best they can. Everybody, it turns out, is proud of their food (when they have it). They enjoy sharing it with others (if they can). They love their children. They like a good joke. Sitting at the table has allowed me a privileged perspective and access that others, looking principally for “the story,” do not, I believe, always get. People feel free, with a goofy American guy who has expressed interest only in their food and what they do for fun, to tell stories about themselves — to let their guard down, to be and to reveal, on occasion, their truest selves. … People, wherever they live, are not statistics. They are not abstractions. … I’m not saying that sitting down with people and sharing a plate is the answer to world peace. Not by a long shot. But it can’t hurt.” – Anthony Bourdain
“that’s just the way the world works” it literally doesn’t have to be but okay
if anyone ever tells you “humans are just selfish / life is cruel / that’s just how the world is, get over it” be critical of them bc there’s a 75% chance they’re just using that as an excuse for their own shitty behavior so that they don’t have to put an effort into being better, kinder people
“Maybe that’s enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.” – Anthony Bourdain
It had almost escaped my notice that it is now May, the month that dooms to a heartbroken death 99% of characters from folk ballads. So, if you suspect you may be a character from a folk ballad, for your own safety:
don’t fall in love, don’t go by the river, don’t go to the sea, don’t talk to sailors, don’t gamble, don’t ramble, don’t go North, don’t go North-West, don’t stand in the wind, don’t dance with anyone named Sally, Sue, Mary, Ann, or Barbara, don’t go to the pub (but if you do go to the pub at least don’t drink, and if you do drink at least pay for your own drink, and if you are absolutely broke and have to let someone else pay for your drink then at the very least do try not to forget to toast everyone you know whom you think might be there very loudly and possibly multiple times), don’t lend money, don’t borrow money, don’t wish you had more money, don’t make plans to make more money, don’t start working for a new employer, absolutely do believe anyone who says they will try to kill you, curse you, or maim you, absolutely do believe anyone who says you might die, turn down every invitation to go a-hunting, horse-riding, or a-courting, be wary of flute players you meet on your path, don’t dance with satanic men in black coats, don’t marry off your daughters to the first man who’ll have them, and don’t promise your true love any herbs you can’t readily plant and gather in your own garden.
There. That should just about cover you for 31 days. Heed the warnings and you may have a chance to last the month. Good luck.
Listen asshole. For every beginning, an end. For all that lives, a death. I’m not gonna bail out of adventure and fuck mothering magick because its ~dangerous~ or ~ill-adviced~. I shall face my demise with valor and piss and vinegar and reach Heaven through Violence. Just try and stop me you shit eating coward.
Come gather, ye tumblrmen that surf the wide net, Come listen to the tale of sir Enochtopus’ death, How cheerfully he marched out, one morn in early may, And with a hey-down-a-down he met a wat’ry grave.
‘Twas early in the morning, ‘twas early early May, When our good Enochtopus set out for the bay, He met a little lass, sweet and pretty as can be, She stabbed him in the back and kicked him in the sea.
But Enochtopus was unafraid to die, was unafraid to roam, And with a hey-down-a-down, they hurried him back home. He was still a-breathing, still a-singing down-a-down, As they shovelled earth and sank him into the ground.
Perhaps you have a mother, likewise a sister too, Perhaps you have a sweetheart to weep and mourn for you, But good and brave Enochtopus had vinegar and piss And in heaven he sings down-a-down upon unbending knees.
i'll apple your turnover 