Picture yourself standing at the precipice of your dreams, with the wind of opportunity at your back and the fire of ambition in your heart. Each day offers a canvas upon which you can paint the masterpiece of your life. Seize this moment, for it is yours to shape and mold. Let passion be your fuel, determination your compass, and perseverance your greatest ally. Remember, the path to success is often paved with challenges, but it is through overcoming them that we truly thrive. So, dare to push beyond your limits, dare to defy the odds, and dare to chase your wildest aspirations. The world is waiting for your brilliance to shine. Embrace the journey, for within you lies the power to achieve greatness beyond measure.
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Okay, you know that scene in Catwoman v.1 where Selina begs Maggie to scream, cry, lash out, & curse her rather than turn to a darker version of herself?
I need you to understand that, if it were written with any sense of integrity, that would be the attitude Bruce has towards Jason post-resurrection. At least after becoming privy to the fact that Jason does not personally blame Bruce for his death.
In my opinion, Bruce would sell his arm for a penny on a streetcorner providing it gave Jason non-homicidal means of coping, for Jason to view him as responsible, as a second murderer. For him to curse "hereoism", & vigilantes, & the whole fucking lifestyle- decry it as an unbelievable farce & leave it all behind to go back to being Jason Todd of Crime Alley, who only did what he had to do to survive. Bruce would be so far beyond willing to carry that weight if it meant his boy would be off the track of his homicidally self-destructive rampage. If it meant Jason realizing he is more than just a revenant, that he is alive, that he can have a life.
The only way it makes any sense to me is if Bruce would accept, even embrace a world in which Jason views him as a horrible dad, an irredeemable piece of shit who is directly responsible for his murder, if it just meant that Jason did not have to utterly sacrafice his sense of humanity & compassion to make it through the world. He'd give near anything for it or it makes no sense. That's his son. His son who was dead but is now alive, for all he does not seem to grasp that himself.
Also he should have let Jason pop the clown. Not even for ethical reasons, but in the chase of giving Jason a chance at the realization in the world they do live in where Jason will not allow himself to view Bruce that way. Because he refuses to harm his son, or let him be taken in another explosion. Not when he just got him back, not when his son has not even gotten the chance to truly come back to life.
(I also think it would be a far more interesting jumping-off point post-utrh for Jason, but that's somewhat besides the point.)
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Why am I here? It´s storytime
Today I want to write about something different. About something personal. About the reason this blog exists and why I´ve created it in the first place. About nature and love and anger and hope.
In 2020, the profile picture of this blog was taken:
It was taken on a solo hike through Sweden, a hike that didn´t go as planned from the beginning, but couldn´t possibly have been more impactful and fantastic and marvellous than it was.
I wanted to follow the Southern Kungsleden, a hiking path from the southernmost mountain ranges in Sweden northwards. I had planned this meticulously, every single day, every grocery store availiable (there were three spread out over the 18 day hike), every ecological zone I would be in, every possible spot to spend the night. And I got stopped in my tracks on day two, because I landed in the middle of snowmelt and bad weather and it just wasn´t doable, even less so alone. I had to reconsider, get out of there, back to safety, and plan again. And when I set out on the second part of that adventure, after a few chaotic days, my planning consisted only of a biking map in a way too big scale to be of any use, the actual map, diverted into 10 pdf´s on my phone, and a vague scrolling through a few travelling blogs.
The second hike was the Siljansleden, a hiking path around one of the biggest lakes in Sweden (but when they say "around", it means, 30 kilometers away from it and then back in a biiig sweep). It was me, alone, in deep forest, populated by moose, wolves, bears, wolverines, lynxes, and many other things that hikers are afraid of. But you still have to sleep somehow, so you have to find your peace with that. And I did it by seeing myself as just one more creature of that forest going about my business. Trying not to bother anyone. Trying not to get into anyones way. Just one of the many beings roaming the vast forests, not to disturb and not to be disturbed. I slept in a tent in the middle of the forest, and in the depth of night, when nothing was to be heard but the whistle of the wind in the trees, when the bright midsummer night spread a soft, shadowless light around, I felt safe, calm and deeply at peace.
And so I went on, for 2 weeks, alone with the forest except for 2 stops in small towns where I stocked up on food and rest. Just me and the forest and the occasional chat with a friendly stranger. I encountered animals of different kinds (including a lynx, that was magical, but to be alone with a cat whose head is almost as big as yours at 2,5 meters distance in the middle of the night is, let´s say, INTENSE). I had good and bad and fantastic days, and while I wouldn´t necessarily say that hiking alone in the wilderness is an easy life, it is a simple one: stay warm, stay fed, stay hydrated, stay dry, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. During those two weeks, I turned from a stranger and a visitor in the forest to someone who was at home there. Coming back to civilization afterwards was shocking and jarring, as dramatic as that sounds. I had to walk along a road to the campground in the town of my destination, it was 1,5 kilometres and it almost drove me to tears. The asphalt was too hard and too hot, the sun getting reflected off of it weirdly, the road wasn´t even super busy, but the cars where so loud and it was just TOO MUCH! Was that really meant for us humans to live in? Why? It took a long time to get used to it again, and I never did the way I was before. I also never step into a forest in the same way I did before. Even though I don´t think I could immediately sleep as calmy out in the forest as I did then, the feeling of being at home there still echoes. I know it´s possible. I know what it feels like, to just be one more creature of the forest, to be embraced by it. I know if I went back for a few days, I would feel the same simplicity and joy and peace again. Now, imagine what it feels like when that forest is cut down.
There was a strip of forest that was a former nature reservation close to where I live. Ten acres of it got cut down last year to built a bigger road with three roundabouts. I´ve known this patch of forest. I biked on a trail in it back from work. I´ve explored it with skis and by foot and collected mushrooms there. It was beautiful and it was erased for a stupid road project that won´t solve any of the problems it´s being built for, because bigger roads have seldomly led to less traffic, quite the opposite. We protested, we talked with the city government, we screamed and begged, but it still happened. Our local community then met up after the forest was cleared, to celebrate our activism if nothing else, to mourn together and to find comfort in community. I went there and I saw the destruction and I was FURIOUS! I´m normally a positive, peaceful person, but that made me just BURN with anger. I wanted to DO something, SCREAM at someone, throw a molotov cocktail into the office of the municipality and watch it burn, just as they had watched that forest fall without feeling anything. Quite possibly without knowing what they had destroyed, because they had never been in or with the forest in the same way. I was so incredibly angry and I wanted SOMEONE who was responsible for this to hurt as much as I did. And then I started to collect cones. Because more destruction wouldn´t lead anywhere and because I wouldn´t change anything by being sued for vandalism. It wouldn´t make anything better. But I collected cones and dried them and put the seeds in one of the planting pots on my balcony. And now I wait and hope that they´ll grow in the spring and that I will find a safe place for them to grow big. The trees that were growing in that spot are gone, but maybe their offspring will have a chance.
I still struggle with that anger. It makes me hateful and cruel and I think about spitting that hatred into the faces of every person responsible for environmental destruction. But I start to understand that this anger is not leading anywhere good. My mom once told me a proverb that says "holding a grudge is like poisoning yourself and hoping the other person dies". Being angry won´t lead anywhere and throwing that anger at the immovable wall that is world politics is only going to leave me drained and depressed. So I try to put my energy somewhere else. Planting trees. Working together with the local activist group. Finishing my studies and working for a better future. I still get angry. But I will try to channel it in a different way. Like writing a blog post about it and trying to update more often to spread the knowledge I gained at university and elsewhere.
Thank you for reading this far and I hope you have a wonderful day!
(PS: if by any chance (which is close to 0) that story about the hike sounded familiar, I do have a side blog where I wrote about it before, named @theopeneye)
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