male validation is whatever but having a little girl compliment you???? having a young girl, the bluntest species to walk this earth, say “you’re so pretty”????? that gives me the biggest ego known to man
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This 4th of July I’m stealing the patriotism euphoria that’s usually associated with assholes idolizing the worst attributes of this country because fuck ‘em I live here too and remembering the things this country actually got Right is an important exercise when trying to rally anyone to want to defend it in November SO putting my money where my mouth is I’ll start easy and say I really like National Parks!! It’s rad how many of them there are and how they’re actual set up to preserve some of the most beautiful wild areas in our country while still letting people visit to enjoy and experience nature!! (Less important but I love how they put national parks on the quarters I think that’s real fun)
Feel free to add on if something speaks to ya!
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Rolan didn’t realize he loved the other two until it was too late. Until it had been years since they’d spoken, even longer since they’d seen each other. And when he realized, he didn’t know what to do. How to deal with the fact that he loved two people he could barely even say he knew anymore. He didn’t understand how he could love concepts, memories filled with laughter and affection and the always somewhat present smell of smoke.
But he did. He loved them. Felt his heart skip a beat when a girlfriend’s dyed blonde hair momentarily made him mistake her for Kian. His body warmed up when she spoke of a fantasy story she’d read, explaining all the little details that Rolan would remember for the rest of his life in the same exact way that Rand would. When he heard a song on the radio, and his first thought was still “Kian would like this”. When the smell of smoke and alcohol and weed that always clung to Rand’s attic bedroom never quite left him.
Kian knew he loved the other too far too early, before anything could be done about it. When their biggest worries were still exams rather than missing sisters or corpses that nobody else could see. And he hated himself for it, hated how quickly and easily his love turned from something acceptable into something they’d hate him for. Hated how no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get rid of the love he felt for them, how each time he hugged or just sat near them it would feel forbidden, like a secret they all had to keep but only he knew about.
But he couldn’t stop the way he felt. How his heart hammered in his chest when Rand rested his head on his shoulder because it was still normal to him. How his body burned when Rolan helped him bleach his hair during the early hours of the morning, talking about everything and anything to pass the time while they waited. How he mourned the friendship he still had with Rand, now tainted with lies because that was the only way Rand could still care for him. How he still felt such a desperate need and pain when yet another call to Rolan went unanswered, his words and pleas falling to nothing as he knew the other would never hear them anyways.
Rand only understood that he loved them when they were gone. He realized with fear and pain and yerning that the betrayal and loneliness he felt when they left wasn’t born just from his best friends leaving him behind. And he didn’t know how to feel, how to deal with it. Just like he didn’t years later, when he was left behind again, both of them gone somewhere he couldn’t bring himself to follow, only remembering how he felt when Rolan Deep and Kian Stone were both nothing but memories a few people held and empty graves he left flowers to.
He loved them for the rest of his life. His heart still skipped a beat whenever he passed by Rolan’s home, like he was still expecting the other to sneak out of the back door and join him in whatever he was doing. His body always felt cold and hollow, like something was missing, whenever someone touched him with the same care and gentleness that Kian always had. He locked up in terror whenever he heard the clicking and buzzing of ordinary bugs that had seemingly overtaken Galloway since the hive died. He screamed when the phantom flesh and blood that forever coated his barely living body wrapped around him tighter in a mockery of an embrace.
Rand loved the other two for the rest of his life. And he hated it more than anything.
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The more I learn about Civil War politics, the more I'm convinced that Lincoln's most impressive and useful leadership trait was that he never let his pride get in the way of doing his job.
Other people in Lincoln's position would have come to Washington with something to prove. They'd have resented the insults and tried to disprove them. They'd have tried to seize power and credit, rejected help, spent a lot of time trying to reach a certain level of respect.
Lincoln's response to, "You're just a backwoods lawyer with no executive experience who makes too many dumb jokes," was pretty much always, "Yeah. And?" He had no interest in petty personal power plays. He had a country to run. There was a war on. It didn't matter what people thought of him so long as the job got done.
He was aware of his personal shortcomings and was always willing to accept advice and help from people who had more knowledge and experience in certain areas. He presided over a chaotic Cabinet full of abrasive personalities who thought they were better and smarter than him, but he kept working with them because they could get the job done. For example: Stanton was absolutely horrible to him when they were both working as lawyers. Just incredibly mean on a personal level. But when Lincoln needed someone to replace Cameron, he swallowed his pride and appointed Stanton as Secretary of War, where Stanton proceeded to be mean to everyone in the world, but he whipped that department into shape and kept it running efficiently through a very chaotic war. Pretty much no one except Lincoln would have been able to put up with that. He could put up with people who were personally difficult if they could do the job he needed them to do--which he was only able to do because his own ego didn't get in the way.
Lincoln's example is a prime demonstration of how humility isn't underrating yourself--it's being so secure in your own abilities and identity that you don't need to attack anyone or defend yourself to prove your worth. He knew his shortcomings, but he also knew his strengths. He was willing to give other people credit for successes and take blame upon himself for failures if it kept things running smoothly. He was secure enough in his own power that he could deal generously--but firmly--with people who tried to undermine him. In a city full of huge egos, in a profession that rewards puffed-up pride, that levelheaded humility is an extremely rare trait--which is what made it so impressive and effective.
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