#Ecology of Everyday Life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fatehbaz · 7 months

Text

[E]very [interspecies] meeting in fact reminds us that the being we meet is and always shall be strange to us […]. When beings meet there is a distance between, such that in encountering the slug we also encounter something beyond the slug – a multitude of life we cannot sense. [...] So despite shared histories and the close proximity in which slugs and [humans] live, the slug retains a certain darkness as a creature apart; something is held in reserve […]. And so fleeting awareness of the irretrievability of the lives of others intensifies poignancy, such that despite a gulf separating the [human] from other creatures, some connection, however fleeting, is made to something – however strange. Refusing to dismiss the everyday and the banal is an ethical response. […] Slugs are there: sliming, chomping, and oozing around quietly and that should be enough to give them consideration.

[Text by: Franklin Ginn. “Sticky lives: Slugs, detachment and more-than-human ethics in the garden.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, Volume 39, Issue 4. 2013. Bold emphasis added by me.]

---

So, can an insect speak? And if yes, do we understand it? Wittgenstein maintained that ‘if a lion could speak we would not understand him’, by which he implied that we do not share the ‘form of lion-life’ that would make lion language fully transparent to us […]. A similar insight was [...] expressed by [...] [a twentieth-century] honeybee researcher [...]: Beyond the appreciable facts of their life we know but little of the bees. And the closer our acquaintance becomes, the nearer is our ignorance brought to us of the depths of their real existence. But such ignorance is better than the other kind, which is unconscious and satisfied.

[Text by: Eileen Crist. “Can an Insect Speak?: The Case of the Honeybee Dance Language.” Social Studies of Science, Volume 34, Issue 1. 2004. Bold emphasis added.]

---

Animal studies scholarship tends to emphasize animal-human relations, encounters, and similarities. […] Jellyfish and other gelatinous creatures [...], however, float at the far reaches of our ability to construct sturdy interspecies connections [...]. Uexkull’s theory […] insists upon multiple worlds […], a capacious admission that a multitude of other creatures dwell as part of worlds that humans cannot readily or completely access or grasp. Three-quarters of a century later Terry Tempest Williams wonders what it would be like to be a jellyfish. […] [She] writes: “Perhaps this is what moves me most about jellies – their sensory intelligence […] the great hunger that is sent outward through the feathery reach of their tentacles. Imagine the information sought and returned.”

[Text by: Stacy Alaimo. “Jellyfish Science, Jellyfish Aesthetics: Posthuman Reconfigurations of the Sensible”. In: Thinking with Water. 2013. Bold emphasis added.]

---

Although we cannot ‘speak’ with nonhumans in any straightforward way, what we can and more importantly do do is become articulate with them in various ways. [...] If there is a way out of this historical impasse [alienation, climate crisis, global ecological degradation], [for some] it is not to be found in attributing some of ‘our’ qualities to ‘them’. It “would not be a matter of ‘giving speech back’ to animals […]. Perhaps the task is not to seek to compare the dance language of bees […] with human language, the ‘intelligence’ […] of Monarch butterflies with human intelligence, […] but rather (or at least in addition) to find a way of thinking about these ‘remarkable things’ that grants them positive ontological difference in their own right. […] [It] is concerned with what is always a multitude of others rather than a singular other […]; and it is radically nonanthropocentric […].

[Text by: Nick Bingham. “Bees, Butterflies, and Bacteria: Biotechnology and the Politics of Nonhuman Friendship.” Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space, Volume 38, Issue 3. 2006. Bold emphasis added.]

---

Starfish may seem to be still, but longer attention [...] shows them [slowly] moving, changing. [...] Then there are beings [like some insects] that experience hundreds, thousands of generations within a human lifetime. For such beings, the memories, learnings and modes of passing on experience are, it almost goes without saying (yet it must be said as it is so often not), radically different from any human’s in terms of the ways they experience change. The immensity of the alterity is, literally, incomprehensible to humans. We can't know what these beings know. But we can be aware that they have knowledges and experiences beyond us. [...] [W]e should know they live and experience and think beyond us. We should seek respect and be aware of how our lives are entangled […]. It is not abstract, or empty.

[Text by: Bawaka Country et al. “Gathering of the Clouds: Attending to Indigenous understandings of time and climate through songspirals.” Geoforum Volume 108. January 2020. Bold emphasis added.]

#ecology #landscape #multispecies #interspecies #abolition

557 notes · View notes

peacephotography · 7 months

Text

Four Lessons for the Long Haul - What Long Covid has taught me on resilience

When the paramedics came for me in the sweltering days of May 2020 it didn’t feel real. I had just passed out in the heat and collapsed headfirst into a radiator. I’d seen paramedics attend to friends and relatives, but in my feverish state, it didn’t sink in that they would come for me. My youthful sense of invincibility quickly faded. I found myself unable to lift my limbs or produce full sentences, and interminable headaches left me in despair. The after-effects are still with me today, in the form of Long Covid.

Now that I have regained some energy, I would like to share some of the lessons that illness has taught me about enduring difficulty in the climate and ecological crisis.

Lesson One: We need courage, not hope

Let the pain be your fuel. Let your total rejection of the status quo give you the courage to transform your life, to stand out from the crowd, and demand transformative action.

Margaret Klein Salamon, Facing the Climate Emergency

For the first few months of my illness, I woke up every morning hoping that I would suddenly recover and have “my life back”. Rather than letting go of what I could no longer do, I kept trying to live as before. But this detachment from the reality of my situation only brought me more pain.

Once I had the courage to face the uncertainty of illness, I let go of anxiously awaiting a miraculous recovery, and relaxed into my situation. In facing my pain and isolation I was able to accept them. They are a state of exile and vulnerability that can be a source of strength for navigating our bittersweet world.

The same is true for facing the climate emergency. If we hope that technology will save us or that criminally negligent governments will suddenly act responsibly, we are recklessly gambling our future on very poor odds. This can only bring pain. Once we start to tell ourselves the truth about the situation, we can find pride in our honesty and compassion in our grief. It’s from here that the resolve to take action will emerge.

Lesson Two: Follow your bliss

Joseph Campbell’s saying, “Follow your bliss,” is not an irresponsible phrase that ignores the pain of life but a reminder to receive pleasure and contentment, even in the depths of suffering.

Toko-pa Turner, Belonging

In illness, every day feels like a struggle. When it shows no sign of improving, or worsens, I lose my morale to keep going. It's an exhausting and depressing limbo. In the darkest and weakest hours, I saw my life flash before my eyes and began to dream of people and places I hadn’t seen for a decade. I saw the highs and lows that had shaped me into the man I am today. This gave me some space and perspective to see things from a different angle. From each challenge, there was a learning on how to face hardship. From each joy, an inspiration to live to the full.

Holding on to these feelings helps bring balance to life. In activism, we follow a true passion and through it find our fullest potential. But even this has its limits. Every step along the way we need to find that balance of difficulty and joy for our own wellbeing. Our struggle for climate and ecological action brings many challenges that can lead us to despairing inertia. In my sickness, a joy was as simple as the view from my bedroom window: a falling blossom, a scudding cloud, a wandering snail.

Such joys became my music, my dance, my poetry, my comedy and my sport: ways to relax into whatever challenge chronic pain brought.

Everyday joys can give us the resilience to keep facing what we must face. So as we rebel with all our might against the existential threat posed by the climate and ecological emergency, let’s also cherish what makes our existence so precious. From that reflective space we can find the courage to keep going.

Lesson Three: Words Matter

“The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her; but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry.”

Virginia Woolfe, On Being Ill

As I slowly regained my speech, I struggled to find the words to describe what I was going through. It struck me that there is a serious lack of language on both chronic illness and climate chaos. If you are unable to express a feeling, you are unlikely to find any solace for it.

For our society to be able to come to terms with the emergency we need a language to relate to in films, literature and TV. Some of the best I think we have so far are Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, a piercing portrayal of the rise of sexism and racism in an uninhabitable America; The Road by Cormac McCarthy, for its portrayal of the gritty end-point of mass extinction; and early Studio Ghibli films such as Princess Monoke/Nausicaa, whose heroines champion coexistence with the natural world.

However, the vast majority of current work focuses too much on apocalypse scenarios, produced to scare the shit out of us, instead of relatable everyday stories. How about a climate drama set in water scarce Somalia? Or a northern woman’s heroic adventure to save her hometown from flooding? We need more romances that argue over whether having kids is responsible and comedies that mock the insanity of our toxic system like The Yes Men or Simon Amstell’s Carnage.

Stories are key for an emotional connection to the challenges humanity faces. Our stories of rebellion can be cathartic for climate anxiety and stir a generation of heroes ready to speak out for their futures. Let’s start writing them.

Lesson Four: Belonging

“By reviving a community, built around the places in which we live, and by anchoring ourselves, our politics and parts of our economy in the life of this community, we can recover the best aspects of humanity. We can mobilise our remarkable nature for our own good and the good of our neighbours.”

George Monbiot, Out of the Wreckage

Being housebound and unable to hold conversations without paralysing headaches is extremely isolating. Yet even in the depths of my pain I was able to appreciate the love of our community. Rebels gave me cards, voice-notes, medical advice, paintings and - best of all – cakes, cookies and biscuits fresh from the oven. The feeling of belonging to and being supported by a community of kindhearted and extraordinary people gave me strength every step of the way.

Together we are building a community that can hold us through the dark days with pride, friendship and joy. We are showing not only the best aspects of humanity but also the solid foundations of a successful social movement. The climate and ecological emergency will shape the rest of our lives. So take every opportunity you can to nourish and prepare yourself for the long journey ahead. You’ll not only be more resilient, but you’ll find more joy.

-- Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this or can think of someone who could benefit from these words please do share it. If you'd like to read more, subscribe to my blog :) Peace, Robin

Photograph: Franck Fife

#spilled ink #writing #long covid #disability #covid #climate crisis #robin boardman

234 notes · View notes

mybeingthere · 6 months

Text

JAN C SCHLEGEL -

OF ALIENS, MERMAIDS AND MEDUSAS

Platinum Prints, limited edition of 5 in the size of 56x76cm (Arches Platinum Rag).

A folio of 12 plates (plus cover page) is available as limited edition of 3

The series „of Aliens, Mermaids and Medusas" was inspired by imagination itself.

Today it seems as if its influence on people is losing its power because we begin to forget or stop noticing how imagination can change our lives. It is the way people approach all kinds of problems with creativity.

We live in a time of crisis when everything in the world has been turned upside down by global warming, ocean pollution, the coronavirus pandemic, and wars (just to mention a few). We have to deal with everyday problems, and this is quite difficult in a state of anxiety. In addition, we are attacked by negative news, and in this information noise, the voice of our imagination that helps us to cope mentally is drowned out.

We do not mean an escape from reality to completely lose touch with it, but a deeper dive into your inner world, where the answers to all questions lie. The ability to imagine, to think outside the box, encourages us to change for the better.

How long ago have you been peering into quirky, chaotic at first glance patterns to discern unusual images in them? How long ago have you laid with a friend on the grass, looking up at the sky and saying, "That cloud looks like a jumping tiger!"? Jan C Schlegel's series of photographs will help you revive your imagination. Just take a closer look at the most primitive, yet incredibly complex creatures: jellyfish.

Jellyfish appeared long before the dinosaurs. They inhabited the ocean 500-700 million years ago, at the dawn of life on Earth. They have no blood, bones or brain, but thanks to evolution, these organisms have developed very cunning methods of adaptation, some secrets of which scientists have not yet managed to unravel. Bizarre camouflage is the most understandable means of adaptation. But there are many unsolved mysteries. Why would a sea creature without a brain need eyes? How can some individuals transform from adult jellyfish to polyps without any limitations, thereby repeating the life cycle and providing themselves with actual immortality?

To date, scientists have described nearly 3,200 species of jellyfish, and the number is only growing every year. The in-depth study of jellyfish has made it possible to advance in solving the ecological problem of plastic emissions into the ocean. Geneticists are grappling with the question of immortality and suggest that the very same immortal jellyfish will help them get a little closer to answering this important question.

It was these amazing, little-studied creatures that attracted the attention of Jan C Schlegel, and he has attempted to show them from a different perspective. The project was photographed in Germany, at the artist’s house, and the Two Oceans Aquarium in Cape Town, South Africa.

The jellyfish placed in large aquariums moved chaotically, and their movements were meditative and calming. These are the moments when the magic of the imagination happens. The relaxed mind is attuned to observation. The smooth movements of the jellyfish seemed to show some pictures, and Jan only had to follow them and catch the moment.

Each person has their own unique experience, so we guess you'll see something of your own. You can look at the jellyfish silhouette as a whole or you can gaze at a particular element. You can focus on the pattern of the tentacles or the unusual fibers that make up the jellyfish's pileus. All of Jan's photos are chosen so that with a little effort you can see something really unexpected. Just take a closer look.

Let's consider one example that might help you engage your imagination at Jan C Schlegel's series. The box jellyfish, considered one of the most dangerous creatures on Earth, has another name: the sea wasp. Its venom can kill an adult in a few minutes if the victim is not treated in time. And yet in the photo from the series „of Aliens, Mermaids and Medusas“ she appears in a slightly different guise, more peaceful. The pattern of her head resembles the gaze of an elephant. As soon as you notice this look, your imagination will add the recognizable elephant skin texture and it will be very hard to get rid of this image, it will stay in your memory for a long time.

There is no point in telling what Jan l saw in all these amazing creatures. We'll just ask a few guiding questions to stimulate your imagination. Could you see a single jellyfish as a forest on a lonely planet? Would you have thought of the idea that a close friendship might develop between a jellyfish and a fish? Or maybe some picture reminded you of your childhood fears when you didn't want to get out from under the covers, being afraid of the monster under the bed? Would you find a woman's profile in one of Jan C Schlegel's works? As you look at the dancing tentacles, will you hear a melody dear to your heart?

The Series is dedicated to Ksenia Chapkayeva who also wrote this introduction. Her inspiration, encouragement and support were vital to see the series realized.

64 notes · View notes

firespirited · 3 months

Text

everywhere but here, I am the mom.

not the 'mom friend', not fun aunt or godmother, the big sister type you go to when you're at the end of your tether and you need a mom to clean up something nasty, kill a spider, unload on someone who can handle it and not make it about them, help you pull the trigger on a hard decision you've already taken but haven't accepted. I make things happen, I connect people, I do mediation and emotional prep; I tell people their full options and help them weigh it all up. You were pondering it for a while but you left here with a lawyer's appointment and a loan we both know is a 'pay it forward' gift. I carry the secrets and the bad memories so it makes sense you move on without me when all's well. The big sister thing means I feel like family and shelter but not really like an everyday friend

Here, I get to be Saffy, bit of a klutz, silly brained with a childlike wonder for creatures and well-designed things who can talk about fear of crowds, slowly healing the relationship with my own mum, I watch horror and post about my dog. That's who I want to be, a large facet of who I am internally buuut life rarely fits the idea we have of ourselves does it?

Part of repairing the imbalanced relationship with mum was letting her do some protective mothering so i can fill the desperate ache to have one person in the world who has my back, while making my support of her more streamlined and unspoken. You know the concept of the toilet paper fairy who makes loo roll appear and always knows when to buy more, that but for groceries, electronics and paperwork, and big decisions we carry together but it has to be very businesslike and unemotional: she's as much a big sweetheart as she is fiercely independent (and ashamed/angry her daughter had to carry half the load). So now she's the one who notices or who I go to when the world has asked me to be The Mom again.

I imagine it's a lot like gay penguins: there's an ecological vacuum of big sister-mom types and some of us just have the vibes.

This winter I've done a metric ton of non-judgmental, non-condescending temporary 'parenting' of women with parents who are gone or who can't handle it and friends who aren't friends-for-that-kinda-thing. I'm really good at it, at weathering a storm for someone and being an anchor. It doesn't hurt any more because mum can be an emotional mum to me.

but I'm never sure how to talk about it here between dolls and shitposts and if i'm not specific... I mean... "chronically ill/special needs person currently or previously in abusive relationship with parent/partner who takes a while to realize and accept abuse isn't just fists but sleep depravation and symptom minimization and all sorts of tiny things that add up to life-threatening injury to the body and mind" applies to many of us dollblr folks as it does like 80% of my social circle offline.

and there's no way of saying that being around some folks is like experiencing a slow motion train wreck without sounding like an asshole.

I am that asshole.

I am goatsed out and want to be a hermit.

Did I tell you guys my doctor vented for 45 minutes about having to put her "dumbass hysterical" sister (deaf and never put in school) into care and the paperwork involved in getting disability (the thing that took me 14 years and she got her sister's transferred in 3 weeks). and I truly empathize but that wasn't very professional and your sister is a person. please.

and I can't cut M out of my life now that her kid is, as predicted, like her (and the facebook-chosen not-yet-divorced deadbeat-dad of 3 special needs kids), an adorable barely verbal two-year-old. She won't be able to navigate special needs care alone but she's still staunchly anti-vax and had a diatribe of ableism mixed with mystical pseudoscience for me, interspersed with thanks for being more family to her than her sister in helping her know how to leave a bad relationship. hokay not making this easy.

S is going to be on the hook for tax evasion if she stays with the shady useless guy she's been babying (and resenting) for 20 years solely because she doesn't like to do activities alone. three times now I've been cornered for the vent sesh. I am sitting on the floor the next time, I need blood in my brain to emote properly. and that unneutered bulldog living in the south is a crime, it can't breathe it can't think, it's all hormones and anxiety covered in fur, of course it's a nuisance around the house.

and there's more but i'm tired of typing and thinking.

#saf #rambling #rants #personal

22 notes · View notes

littlegreekhero · 17 days

Text

Lonnie Machin (a.k.a. Anarky/Moneyspider) headcanons

Thank you again for inspiring me to think more of him @megaaceofspades <3 (i also have a lot of timlonnie ones but the post would be too long, i have it queued up)

I think in the current timeline Lonnie is still stuck to machines(AND HE'S BALD), only having bodily autonomy over in the Ünternet, and boy has he been there for a decade now, i think he's already founded the anarchist utopia whose sparks we were shown at the end of Red Robin(2009).

Ünternet can be an escapade for Tim and anyone aware of it when life is too much, Gotham is too much, when there is no hope left etc. They go over there and have a picnic with a few books aside, eat snacks produced 100% ethically and regain faith in humanity again. Lonnie is like a never extinguishing candle of hope and in every situation he can bring a hopeful smile to his visitor's face.

When Leslie Thompkins, having read Moneyspider's conversations from the monitor, comes to the conclusion that Lonnie shows strong signs of autism, he absolutely rejects the label. He thinks psychiatric associations are no authority in naming behaviours for the sake of classification.

He isn't actually bald. His poor health condition has surely affected the number of hair follicles, but it's the doctors that keep it shaved to facilitate access to all those equipment around his head. He still has the cool asf mullet in the simulation.

His body is still a child's, around 15, but his eyes do not seem to belong to one. His gaze tells you he's seen so much. It's almost as if he is watching every corner of the world with the same attention and seeing everything from a unique universal perspective not many can achieve. If they had been alive, their parents would confirm it's been that way since his perception of the American Dream (TM) has first shattered.

He's still a anarchocommunist, and those canon ancap tendencies then neotech propaganda never happened (there is no anarcho corp in ba sing se ^-^) (why did he say "eat the rich" then took the money to himself in comics i will never understand)

He continues to publish after his book, it's little booklets, articles, forum posts, whatever reaches to the people.

Newer modern devices and softwares no longer support acces to Ünternet. When Tim claimed no responsibility over this (it's singlehandedly his doing, as much as HE trusts Anarky, several forces around the world including Batman dont want the threat of worldwide madness resurface again), Lonnie laughed at his face and started a global technological device preservation movement. He could not risk losing an entire civilisation to consumerist propaganda.

Somewhere around the world, an ecology movement constantly recieves donations from some guy named Lonnie.

Anarky's bots indirectly control the Bats' communications and systems. If there's a problem Babs is first to know, then she decides if its worth sharing to Tim, who shoots it over to Moneyspider, who has quite a few AIs and bots to work on it and ensure ethicality in every step. (This is also how i legitimize his acess to 3D models of Batman's gadgets in Urban Legends) (there's no urban legends#22 in ba sing se)

One time Lonnie requested Tim to collect some memorabilia from the remains of his old bases. Once arrived, Tim found a dog wandering around the same place over and over again. It was Yap!!!! Lonnie's old friends had kept it in good care and it was thrilled to go back to snuggle on its companion's lap in the hospital.

His caregivers and doctors suspect he might have started to reject rehabilitation to stay forever in the simulation because his condition seems to stay stable in one state no matter what they do. It's not the case. With every single thing from his old life gathering around him slowly, he is more than thrilled to regain mobility and participate in everyday life. He's also working on transporting audio files that technically don't exist outside of the Ünternet to create a voice box for himself. He already has the plans for a wheelchair suited just for his needs ready.

I think he's extra sensitive about earthquakes and helping those who survived in the aftermath since he lost his parents under rubble. He's there to support every rescue team after every earthquake no matter how small scale the destruction is, wherever in the world it is.

#lonnie machin #anarky #anarky dc #moneyspider #headcanon #red robin 2009 #anarky 1997 #anarky 1999 #dc comics

16 notes · View notes

4leafclovr · 8 months

Text

some of my fave fave books i think everyone should read (i know approximately 3 people will see rhis but i just wanted to make it for fun)

☆ braiding sweetgrass - robin wall kimmerer

☆ all about love - bell hooks

☆ the new life - orhan pamuk

☆ watership down - i forfot the author 💀

☆ earthlings - sayaka murata

☆ dark ecology - timothy morton

☆ the beauty of everyday things - soetsu yanagi

☆ after lockdown - bruno latour

☆ the mushroom at the end of the world - anna tsing

☆ speculative everything - anthony dunn and fiona raby

☆ how to do nothing - jenny odell

☆ im like a pdf but a girl girlblogging as a nomadic pedagogy - ester frieder

☆ the Tao te Ching

☆ Entangled Life - Merlin Sheldrake

☆ Dog Songs - Mary Oliver

☆ Radical Love - Omar Sadif

☆ No God but God - Reza Aslan

☆ Breasts and Eggs - Mieko Kawakami

☆ Masks - Fumiko Enchi

☆ Crying in Hmart - Michelle Zauner (japanese breakfast)

☆ The Sorrow of War - Bao Ninh

☆ The Crying of Lot 49 - Thomas Pynchon

24 notes · View notes

p3arlsandcoff3 · 9 months

Text

I have recently started to become more ecologically conscious in my everyday life - eating out less, buying less, using more of the possessions I already own, etc... - and that includes shopping for clothes in second hand shops. And I am ASTONISHED at how many well kept, good quality pieces are simply lying around at some dim lit room downtown. Honestly, I urge everyone reading this to go to the worst rated second hand shop in their area. Avoid the trendy ones, go for the ones with 70 year old witches who'll smoke a whole pack inside the store in the hour you'll spend there. The true gems lie there.

Stay yourself, stay curious.

#communism #vintage books #vintage typewriter #vintage academia #vintage #second hand #eco friendly #dark academia #second hand clothing #second hand clothes #dark academia clothing #leftist #second hand books

20 notes · View notes

betaidkhoes · 11 months

Text

Nothing Burns Like The Cold (PART 1)

Dabi x FAB! Reader (Yandere & SMUT)

WARNINGS: Stalking! Slight Blood Mentioning & Murder

2.7K words

(Part 1/5)

! MINORS DNI !

You were a young petite woman, 20 years old, soft skin, beautiful healthy hair, blush cheeks, wide eyes... you we're the perfect target for a predator to pounce on you at night. You always had a fear of someone attacking you ever since you we're little. The serial killer documentaries you watched at school, the scenarios your mom used to tell you about that would keep your eyes wide open at night, the defense moves your father taught you when you we're 6 years old. Being a young woman in a villain society was almost an invitation it seemed. You we're so vaunerable, I mean what would the villains think you would do? Fight back? Of course not, you we're weak and that gave them a huge advantage. You always tried to be cautious of your surroundings whenever you were in a foreign area or whenever you walked home from work every night. But even in the most safest areas can the most gruesome crimes take place, infact it's the perfect area because no one would expect it coming... your job was a simple one, not much to say about, it helped cover the mortgage on your tiny apartment, cover taxes, food, furniture and so on basic human needs. Life was simple for you. Wake up, go to work, go home, eat, sleep, repeat. You never had a boyfriend or a relationship like that before, your parents never really let boys near you. They we're so protective over you because of the crime rates skyrocketing because of all the superpowers appearing left and right. They wanted to keep their only daughter safe, so it was natural to not let any boys in a 50 meter radius of you. Of course you still had a social life, a few friends here and there, they all come and go. You were a quiet girl, it's not like you we're very popular during your high school days, you would rather focus on studying instead of goofing off with the popular kids at parties and getting so high and drunk you couldn't even pronounce your own name. You liked your simple life though, you never really thought it would change. How wrong you we're...

They say things happen in your life for a reason, people come into your life for a reason and they leave for a reason, you never really believed that until that day, the day your world turned upside down and it seemed like you we're in the worse situation possible and you just wanted to die. Everything was on track that day, woke up, did your normal morning routine and went off to work. Your apartment was pretty close to your work building so you thought you should try and stay ecologically friendly and walk everyday instead of driving. You had your teacher bag packed and leaned over your left shoulder, a medium length skirt on, hair neatly tied up, and white blouse that loosely kissed your bare skin. You looked like a pretty angel walking on the stairway to heaven. You we're infact running a tad bit late, unfortunately your coffee machine decided to break down this morning so you had some trouble fixing it and walking out the door on time. You we're walking faster then usual to pick up the pace so you wouldn't be late for work. You we're wearing high heels so the chances of you falling were very likely, and the odds we're not in your favour today. The right foot accidentally bumped over the left foot when it hit a small rock on the side walk, you lost your balance and had to think quick before you fell on the rocky sidewalk and bruise your hands from the fall. Suddenly without even seeing him from the corner of your eye, a large slim dark figure caught you before the bridge of your nose touched the ground. The catch was so out of line it made your heart beat slightly faster then it had over the past 10 years of your life, you don't think it's beated this fast then since you we're a little girl running around at the park. You we're now in the arms of a complete stranger and didn't know how to react, you turn your head to look at his face but it was covered by a black hood. His arms lifted you back up on your feet as you regained your balanced. Your eyes never left his shadowed face for not even a split second, you we're much taken by surprise. You we're about to thank him but-

"You shouldn't be in such a rush, wouldn't want a pretty lady like you to get hurt now"

He slowly started to walk away while shyly waving at me from behind, not looking back. I couldn't see it but I feel the smirk he had on his lips while saying those words. My hands covered my chest as I was taken back by his words, it made my cheeks feel hot and I didn't really know how to feel except for when I snapped out of my vision and realized that I am still late for work. I fixed my heel that was slightly crooked and thanked him in my head and kept on fastly walking to work. When I arrived at my work I didn't get scolded too hard since this was probably my first and only time i'll ever be late. I was a goody two shoes like that. It kind of made me laugh to think that if my father was with me then he would've chased that man with his shoe all the way down the block. Anyways that was probably the first and last time I'll ever get that close to a man again. My body was pressed up against his chest so hard as if he was holding me for dear life, I bet if I closed my eyes and let all of the outside noise escape my ears, I could hear his heart beat. I'm still disappointed I didn't thank him, he was too far down the street by the time I came back to my senses, and I'm too quiet to shout at him just to thank him, I'm sure he heard my mental message I thought to myself. I get off work around

9pm-ish so it's always pretty dark outside when I walk home. Except this time felt a bit off for some reason, as soon as I stepped outside the building doors, a cold almost piercing wind current hit my body. Its almost as if it we're knifes, I knew winter was coming soon but I didn't remember the weather report saying it was going to be this cold this morning. The entire atmosphere made me uncomfortable, then that fear of someone coming up behind me any moment came into my mind. My adrenaline started pumping through my body, I knew I have to get to my small apartment quick and fast before something bad happens.

I rush home and lock all of my doors and windows, and for some reason, it felt like eyes were piercing through my glass windows and starring right at my body. I didn't feel safe for a second. After a few minutes I realized how quiet my apartment was and didn't like how loud the silence was so I turned on the news to keep my mind distracted. I made some shallow black tea to make my body stop shaking from the fridged air outside. I looked over at my small tv and my heart almost dropped into my stomach. There was a murder case on the news, there was an image of the suspect, it was blurry and had poor quality but it looked almost identical to the man that caught my fall this morning. He had a dark tone, black hoodie, and a tall slim figure, it was no lie that the description matched. The murder involved over 30 innocent people that we're burned to death, the news headline made me sick to my stomach and what scared me even more was the man in the photo... he had... he had to be. He had to have been that man today. A new slide came up and they revealed that the murderer is a known mass serial killer that goes under the name "Dabi". So simple yet it's a name most people won't forget.

"Dabi..."

That name, there was something that gave me the chills whenever I said it. At this point I was shaking... thinking over and over and over on how one of those innocent people could've been me today. I looked over at the time that the incident took place and it was only a few hours after our encounter. I grabbed my remote in a panic and turned off the television as I didn't think I could stand to watch anymore. They still haven't obtained a picture of his face yet his imagine burned clear in my mind. I didn't have to see his face to know it was him. I picked up the phone and called my manager informing him that I don't think I can make it into work tomorrow, I felt very dizzy and the bullet I dodged still left a scar in my head. My manager was concerned as I never took a day off in my life before but because I never had, she said it wouldn't be a problem.

"Um- one last thing Y/n... are you a-alright? You're breathing very heavy over the phone."

I was hyperventilating.

"Oh no I'm uh- fine, thank thank you."

"Are you sure becau-"

I hung up the phone immediately, I was too scared to even talk about what was running through my head right now. I tried to calm myself down but couldn't help but pace around my room, I wish there was someone I could talk too but the words just wouldn't come out of my mouth. I decided to take a ragged cloth and put cold water under it and placed it on my forehead to help with my dizziness. I walked over to my bedroom and laid down trying to fall asleep and forget this horrible tragedy. The next morning I woke up later since I didn't even shut my eyes until around 1am last night. I had dark circles and felt like I was going to throw up even though I didn't eat anything yesterday. I laid in bed for a few hours until I finally motivated myself to get up. It was a tragic shame what happened to those 30 people last night, but the bright side was I managed to live another day unharmed. I'm sure the police will catch him soon.

Guilty people can't always run forever, eventually karma will catch up to them and give them what they deserve.

I got dressed, took a quick shower, put on some comfy clothing and decided to eat something small, my stomach still wasn't feeling right. I knew what would do me good. Going outside. Nothing feels better then walking outside in the fresh air and clearing your mind. I put on my sandals and opened up my door and noticed a white piece of paper laying on my doorstep. I didn't pay attention to it and thought it was nothing but a piece of garbage and walked past it. Until a gust of wind blew towards me, it hit the back of my leg and so I decided to pick it up and throw it away, until I saw the small black writing on the inside. My curiosity got the best of me and I decided to open it...

"(Work address name) is this where you work... y/n?"

What the... what. I must've starred at the piece of paper for at least 5 minutes, I had a blank expression on my face. I couldn't look at it clearly, I couldn't make up an emotion. I looked around me and I looked back at the paper. I can't... I c-can't.. I- um, I didn't know what to think in that moment, the pressure was too heavy. I took the paper and brought it inside and read it over and over. It was my work address. It was my name. I don't understand. Is someone... watching me? I read online articles about stalking and stalkers but I didn't think this type of thing would be happening to me, especially since last night. The note freaked out all the cells in my body. It sent cold shivers down to my core. I couldn't express any feeling towards this. I quickly locked my door and shut all my blinds and windows... just like last night. That feeling came back to me, those set of eyes watching my body. I couldn't take it anymore. This note was the last straw. I picked up the phone and dialed the police...

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Beep... beep... the sound kept repeating, I looked at my phone line and then came to the realization that my cord was cut. My heart skipped a beat, maybe even 2. At that point I panicked, I could feel someone lurking in my home. I started breathing heavily, my palms getting sweaty, I didn't have the courage to go around my apartment with a knife in my right hand and open each door until I find a surprise in one of them. I unlocked my door and ran out fast, I ran down the street trying to look for a pedestrian walking by so I could ask them to call the police. Then I saw an old woman turning the corner with her grandson, I ran up to them as quickly as I could and stood directly infront of them until they laid their eyes on me.

"Hello, can we help you with something?"

The young boy looked up at me with concern while his grandmother held onto his arm.

"Y-yes please... I need the police, I need h-help, there's someone.. there's a person, he's in my home... phone.. do you-"

The words couldn't come out of my mouth clear enough but the boy understood what I was trying to say.

"I- um we're sorry ma'am, we only have a phone at our house which is a few miles away. I'm sorry? There's a small shop a few blocks down."

I started really shaking this time not having a good gut feeling at all, the air around me seemed drying then the desert, I ran out of my house so fast I didn't even put on my sandals, my feet were bleeding and my sweat started pouring down my face like a bucket of water.

"N-no please... I think someone is watching me."

I whisper closely up to them not wanting them to panic and realize what I'm trying to tell them. I think whoever was in my house is now outside with me.

"We're very sorry Ma'am, I hope you find help?"

He started walking ahead of me quickly starting to worry about the safety of his grandmother, I watched as they walked away, gripping my hair with my clammy hands as I looked around me. The streets have never been more quiet. I could barely even start to see the young boy and his grandmother walking off. I knew I scared him but I don't blame him as I was starting to lose my sense.

"Excuse me, did you say you needed help?"

I turned around me with a growing smile on my face and happy that someone acknowledged my distress and could help me find a telephone to call the police. I looked up at where and who the words were coming from.

"Y-yes I-"

My smile dropped, my eyes lifted up widely and my arms fell at my side and my breathing stopped. I choked on air when I realized it was him.

#anime #smut #dabismut #fanfic #x reader #dabi x reader #female #female reader #yandere #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha dabi

29 notes · View notes

probablyasocialecologist · 8 months

Text

Because we are social creatures, our understandings of nature will never be pure or free of social meaning or contingencies. Nature is not a thing from which we can separate ourselves and know completely, no matter how liberatory our culture or language may be. Instead of trying to grasp a romantic knowledge of a people-less ‘nature’ through abstract love, protection, and contemplation, we must begin to know and reconstruct the social and political institutions that determine both social and ecological practices. By engaging in a life long process of politicized critical self-reflection and action, we may become a society conscious of the historical origins of its own desire for ‘nature’; a socialized desire that begs to be developed in a truly radical direction.

Chaia Heller, Ecology of Everyday Life: Rethinking the Desire for Nature

#Ecology of Everyday Life #Nature

183 notes · View notes

pissed-french-citizen · 1 year

Text

Ok guys, things are going BAD AND WORST EVERYDAY

Yesterday, on Saturday 26 of March, 2023, what we can call a civil war happened in Sainte-Soline, Deux-Sèvres, France.

A freaking good exemple of "what is legal is not necessarily legit".

Here, from the French human right ligue :

"We noted several cases of obstruction by the forces of law and order to the intervention of the emergency services, both ambulance and fire brigade."

Green activist were having a congress about ecology and how to build a virtuous agricultural model that respects people and biodiversity.

The project :

https://bassinesnonmerci.fr/index.php/les-bassines-cest-quoi/

Build 16 mega-basin, the biggest one having a 720 billions litres capacity (720 000 000 l.) on 16 hectares of land, with 8 meters high embankment.

The water to fill those basins will be pomp in groundwaters(into the grounds or rivers),it will NOT be rainwater.

This water will be use to irrigate CORN, which don't naturally grow in this part of the world.

This corn will be grown to be exported, or make biogaz, but not to feed animals and humans.

Only 12 farms will benefit of it.

FRENCH PEOPLE are paying for it : since access to water is ALL PUBLIC SERVICE here, and the state is spending 60 billions euros for that, but is NOT the owner of the farms, the state will NEVER have its money back and the French people will never eat that corn.

ON TOP OF THAT most of the country is facing an historical WINTER DROUGHT.

So green activist, farmers and elected greens gathered on the site to protest, despite the prefecture's ban, because our planet cannot wait any longer and water should be a shared good and not for just some farmers. Anyway, our beloved (no) Minister of Home Affairs have been speaking of "how violent it will be" there, despite the ban, speaking of "1000 violents protestors awaited".

What happened :

The prefecture banned every gathering for the weekend, fearing violence as it happened in Notre-Dame-Des-Landes

People came anyway, because ecology is our best chance to survive, moreover after the last GIEC report

3000 policemen (civil) and gendarmes (military) have been sent to guard the construction site.

As you might have understood, things went bad, like REALLY bad.

4.000 grenades thrown by the state's force

3 gendarmes' véhicules burnt.

200 protestors hurt, 28 gendarmes, 5 persons in a life-threatening condition (2 protestors, 3 gendarmes)

Ambulances kept away from the field from the military, despite the injured people needing immediate medical attention.

👇This thread will show you what happened

And now what ?

Well, protests happen EVERYDAY in France. Considering that :

how violent this protest have been,

how fast is our beloved (still no) Minister of Home Affairs to blame far-left and black blocks for every violence during protest

How he used tiredness to justify the violence of the police

How he considers undeclared protestation illegal WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY FALSE

Protests will take place all over the French territory next Tuesday

We already know that there wil be MORE policemen and gendarmes around the protests

Please PLEASE, fellow French protestors, TAKE CARE, even more if one of sainte-soline's protestor or gendarme dies by then.

#france #french protests #upthebaguette #sainte-soline #sainte soline #french police #human rights #civil war

40 notes · View notes

fatehbaz · 9 months

Text

In this remarkably rich account of land and profit-making in colonial Calcutta (now Kolkata), Debjani Bhattacharyya traces the transformation of marshes, bogs, and muddy riverbanks into parcels of fixed, bounded, and alienable property under British colonial rule. Framed evocatively as a “history of forgetting” (6), Bhattacharyya details the everyday enactments and contestations of imperial power undertaken by colonial officials and merchants, hydrographers, Indian property owners, urban planners, surveyors, and speculators between the 1760s and 1920. Over this period, the fluid and culturally multivalent spaces of the delta were translated and transformed into “dried urban landscapes of economic value” (12). [...] [T]he economization of space was so encompassing that earlier ways of understanding and inhabiting the delta’s shifting lands and waters were [obscured] [...].

The British thus had to produce landed property both conceptually and materially in a process that proceeded through two entangled registers of power. The first was the legal register, which translated shifting and indeterminate aqueous spaces into apparently solid landed property through modes of legal classification and arbitration. The second register of power concerned hydraulic technologies of drying and draining the landscape (10), which materialized these legal categorizations in the production of urban space.

By the early twentieth century, these “technologies of property” (5) had produced new lines between land and water in the city and rendered its fluid ecologies, such as marshes and bogs, as valuable “land-in-waiting” (172) for property development and financial speculation. [...]

[T]he delta’s fluid ecology emerges at times as a limit on the property-making activities of the East India Company and the British Crown [...]. Bhattacharyya’s account highlights the mobility of the delta’s fluid landscape, with water, silt, and mud taking on agentic roles and shaping historical trajectories. [...] [Bhattacharyya] provides a fascinating account of the meanings of rivers and other watery spaces in Bengali cultural life, drawing on folk songs, poetic genres such as the maṅgalkāvya, storytelling, and forms of artistic representation such as painted narrative scrolls. [...] Bhattacharyya recovers forms of relationality and claim-making in the fluid deltaic environment that exceed the representations of colonial cadastral surveys and revenue records. [...]

[H]owever, Calcutta became increasingly disconnected from its watery past. [...] [There was an] increasing entanglement of the urban land market with infrastructural projects to dry land and control water. These included the excavation of an extensive network of canals; the construction of docks in Khidderpore and the draining of the Maidan [...]. A collective amnesia about Calcutta’s fluid ecologies set the stage for the emergence of a speculative real estate market by the beginning of the twentieth century [...]. This period saw Calcutta’s remaining wetlands and marshes rendered as “land-in-waiting for property development” (169) in a process that continues to the present day.

---

All text above by: Calynn Dowler. “Debjani Bhattacharyya, Empire and Ecology in the Bengal Delta: The Making of Calcutta.” Asian Ethnology Volume 80 Issue 1. 2021. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#ive read bhattacharyyas book and her focus on the lethal power of property laws and legal engineering in bengal #is also the focus of two other scholars of bengali environment and history who are kuntala lahiri dutt and rohan dsouza #all three highlight how colonial lawmaking converted fluid deltas mangroves rivers into property #to tax and control land yes but also to strengthen landlords and hierarchies to force the poor into debt and wage labour and plantation work #abolition #ecology #imperial #colonial #mangroves

21 notes · View notes