Months later, I got the White House to provide me with a verbatim transcript of the speech. Verbatim transcripts contain every sound the person makes, every ‘uh,’ 'um,’ and 'er.’ In her fourty-minute speech Hillary spoke in complete sentences and made hardly any extraneous verbal utterances. Her message was so powerful tha the New York Times used it as their basis for its cover story in its Sunday magazine on the concept of communitarianism. It was a remarkable performance, and it was 100 percent Hillary Rodham Clinton. No speechwritters, policy wonks, or political pundits had helped.
Patrick Halley on Hillary’s speech in Austin while her father was sick
i had a really important interview the other day and i was running late because of trains breaking down on me and I was pretty much close to tears when I got into my Lyft, but my driver straight up just went “I’ll drive like an asshole for you girl” and stepped on it and I don’t think anyone’s been that good to me ever
this month I’d really like to get some more fanart & sketchbooks out (as well as streaming more.. and a 30 day challenge??), but if I want to take that time to draw I rly need to make sure I keep enough in the bank for rent/bills
priced anywhere between $30-$38 based on complexity of design; will draw fanart, ocs, anthro, gore/blood, nudity, fetish stuff, etc. in any two colors of your choice. you can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org if interested!
please reblog if you’d like to help spread the word, tysm! ; v ;)/
I don’t tell you, because I can’t be mean. Oh, but how I want to. I want to tell you that this is too much. That I am not who you think I am. That this space in my heart is taken. THAT YOU CAN’T HAVE IT. THAT I AM NOT YOURS. THAT I DO NOT OWE YOU ANYTHING. MY SMILE IS NOT CURRENCY AND I AM NOT IN DEBT TO YOU.
I am not the free wind that you think I am. I am chained. I am heavy. AND I AM CAPABLE OF HOLDING MYSELF. (As I have my whole life, without you.)
I am not a flower; I am a vine. I am climbing the garden wall with grasping tendrils and I am choking the stones around me and climbing to the sun and into the sky and beyond and into space and I am doing ALL OF THIS BECAUSE YOU ARE ON THE GROUND. (This is not ascension, it is escape.)
MY RECOGNITION IS NOT A JEWEL. MY COURTESY IS NOT A CROWN. Civility is a chunk of concrete around my own ankle and every step you take towards me is another agonized limp backwards, dragging respect and decorum across the ground beneath me, and feeling them bite into my dry and flaking skin.
i am a nice girl. i don’t hurt your feelings. i keep quiet.
Over the years, Jesper never really stops calling Wylan “Wylan Van Sunshine”. It becomes almost a symbol. One year for his birthday, Jesper gets Wylan a pretty little sun made of glass. Then the next year Jesper spends months making him a big gold sun, bright as can be and carved with tiny intricate patterns. As time goes on, the suns become more and more frequent. A pancake shaped like the sun, a little silk sun sewn into Wylan’s pillowcase, little paper suns on the window in the morning. It continues for years until there are enough suns that Wylan paints a whole room yellow and fills it with them so he can sit in there sometimes and just marvel at them all.