I saw a post on Reddit that said, “When you walk through a museum, you’re not just looking at art. You’re moving through centuries of people trying to explain love, grief, power, beauty, and belonging.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a museum described so beautifully.
“It’s just Mash-Your-Toys-Together The Movie”
Yeah…that’s exactly what I want from a big crossover movie like this…
Superhero movies are not meant to be pretentious art films.
They’re meant to just be fun popcorn flicks to be entertained by.
You’re born onto a planet you never asked to exist on…
and society immediately hits you with: “Okay, now go earn the right to eat, sleep, rest, and have shelter.”
Like… zoom out for a second.
We’re floating on a rock in infinite space and we created a game where you have to spend most of your life working just to not starve or freeze to death.
The whole concept is actually insane when you think about it.
in order to become a better person, you must first realize how horrible you really are. not in the dramatic sense, but in the quiet ways you sabotage yourself, repeat unhealthy patterns, hurt people who care about you, or tolerate what wounds you. you cannot grow if you keep pretending you're innocent in the story you created.
I honestly cannot stress this enough but please start living & enjoying your life. Your life is passing by daily and all you’re doing is working, paying bills, & overthinking stuff you can't change. Start taking trips and treating yourself. Have fun with this life. You only get 1
I want to be rich. But not Lamborghini
or Rolex rich, I want to be rich enough to go to the gym at 3pm and nobody can tell me no. To tap the family in front of me at the supermarket and say, "It's on me," Rich enough that my future wife never has to worry about getting a job. Rich enough to show my children the world, not pictures of it. Rich enough to take my friends to dinner and say, "| got this", Rich enough that God uses me to help the people who are in need. That's my version of rich.
My "Roman Empire is the realization that my life is a lottery win. Somewhere in Sudan, Pålestine, iran, Afghanistan, Iraq or Congo, there is a boy smarter than me. He is more disciplined, more resilient, and holds more potential in his single finger than I do in my entire career.
The only difference? I am siting in a train and he is sting in the rubble of his dreams.
My "bad days" are his wildest dreams.
My "burnout" is a luxury he can't afford because his only job is staying alive.
It's geographical luck and it's a haunting injustice that we all refuse to acknowledge and look away
The internet constantly tells women that men are terrible listeners because the second a woman starts venting about her day, the man immediately interrupts to offer a logical solution. We are taught to view this as him being dismissive, emotionally unintelligent, or invalidating our feelings.
The strict, unpopular truth is that to a man, fixing the problem is his absolute highest, most desperate form of empathy.
Women vent to connect; we want our partner to just sit in the dark with us and validate the emotion. But men are hardwired to view the woman they love being in distress as an active threat. When he immediately offers a spreadsheet, a strategy, or a solution to your problem, he isn't trying to silence you. His brain has recognized that something in the world is hurting his partner, and his immediate, visceral instinct is to assassinate the thing causing you pain.
We constantly shame men for "not just listening," completely ignoring the fact that his attempt to fix your life is his most profound declaration of love.