What We Do

The first photo is of a fox from where I volunteer. He had gotten out of his enclosure and was gunned down by their neighbour who claimed he, in a space of an hour, killed a couple dozen chickens; he was killed barely inside their property. We are pretty sure not even one of their chickens vanished, let alone was found dead.
He was the nicest of the foxes. He'd often take eggs from your fingers and bury them for later.

Photo two is of a young racoon untying my old shoe. He and his family had been in an area undergoing deforestation. His parents were scared off, and one of the foresters was going to kill him. One of the men took pity on the little bunch, persuaded the other to let him take them, and brought them to the Sanctuary.

Photo three is of a harmless-seeming insect, the type that perish also every time you treat your yard with insect-killers. These flowers bloomed long and without damage, having not once been treated with chemicals to rid them of the bugs like these cute one.

And photo four is of some baby blue jays that hatched outside of my window. They've all since grown up and flown off. I watched their mother push them out of the nest to fly. She was a very protective mother, so any shots of them were difficult.
Rare experience to see, the lot.

What most here do not know is that I have Major Depressive Disorder. I often get highly depressed, among other things. The piece you're about to read is a product of that, as my more.... intense or graphic pieces come out then.
It has not been edited or altered except to hide the r-word that CW will not let me have in my post. It came out in one flow. It is from first-person point-of-view, talking to God. It is graphic with some words that just shouldn't be used, but it gets the point across.

I'm a thief, a r*p*st, and a murderer. You give me the world to take care of, and I take it all for my own. I take it, I r*pe it-- I force it to give into me, to give me what I want, and I shove it away from me when it doesn't give me exactly what I want anymore. It's all for my own gain. I market the fruits of its own labour and take all of the profits as my own. I use them to boost me forward as it declines into decay, into hopelessness, into permanent death.
It's not just my world, either, else this could be "justified" in the twisted, sick mind of an environmental pervert-- that's what most people are who have some idea of what they're doing and still do it to Your creation.
And I steal from our children, from our friends' children, from our families' future that at this rate will never be. I am killing them before they are even born. My hands wring their necks as my hands pluck from the Earth all of its life. I slaughter them with every slash of the angered teeth of my chainsaw. I dig into their hope and steal it as my shovels and machines rip open the earth and leave it a waste. I starve them of advancement, of prosperity, as I waste the meaty bones of my plastics, metals, papers, water, etc. They cannot feast on the prosperity we today have. They cannot feast at all as the nutrients in the earth disappear to feed my appetite, to feed my greed.
And the money in my pocket, in my bank, in my numerous possessions-- it is all worthless. I will die, which will be the best thing for this world as my body will feed the trees growing up around my grave. I will die, and I will no longer have the money I saved up, never used-- never used to do good on this Earth, to do the Earth well like it has done me.
So I continue to modify the landscape, as it dries up before me and I do not care. I slaughter the precious, rare sites that will one day vanish. I pollute our world so it rots away in agony, in modifications done by our laziness and bad habits. I remain ignorant and refuse to realise how inter-connected we all are, how each creature affects the next, how I cannot live without them. But as I speed through my fast-paced life, I speed our entire future toward death.
I am a thief, a r*pist, and a murderer. So are you.