I am lying in a patch of forest by the highway.

There is no end to the heavy trucks. There is no end to the motor engines. I accidentally scared a pheasant with the sound of the zipper when I opened my backpack and I felt sorry. In the dark I could only hear him, the only heavy bird around here, leaving his resting place nearby above me.

I think about how we have built these systems, all of it, how the highways are like veins cut and cast to support the movement of Earth that we have dug up, sorted by molecules, organized and re-assembled. The cars going by, the incessant noise, the lights; the ports, the industrial complexes; even the lands on which we grow are in squares. We build all of it and it is so, so bad for us.

We wanted it to be good. We made it to feel safe. We made it to make life easier, to not be scared, wet and cold.

But no human body fits in this. We built square rooms for ourselves. They are heated, they are light and comfy.

But next to the highways, no one can live. Very few birds and beasts have a home here.

I don’t know if I am the only one hiding here, in this patch of forest.

But I know that this feels all wrong. No matter how much I try to fold and fit myself into the life I see most people live, there is still friction. There is too much of it, it’s painful.

And so I slip into the cracks.

If it’s a fence I can climb it or push myself and the backpack under it. Or just go around the side as with this one and slip into this patch of land.

Illegally. Intentionally.

I find small paths to cross these boundaries, obnoxiously ignore laws and rules. I hide myself. I make myself small and hope I can sleep through the noise of the traffic, yet I know I will wake if I hear a twig brake or, worse, the sound of another human breathing, coughing or talking.

I think about how this journey started a long time ago. Ever since first hearing about climate change in school, ever since being maybe fourteen my life has been steadily moved by this. My opinions haven’t really changed from back then. There have just been more reports from the IPCC, more news about floods, forest fires, species extinction, habitat loss, pests. More bombs falling so that more people can make more holes in the ground to extract more oil.

The 2 degree goal seems like a joke to me; no one is changing. Yet, to give up and do nothing is simply not an option. I have the privilege to do many things, but not to give up on trying to to do something, anything about our common climate crisis.

So I grow my life into the cracks. And I hide myself like a small shadow. I make myself invisible, I slip in where there’s space.

My boundaries constantly change, I draw them out like lines on the beach before the wave hits. I am sure that at some point in my life, I will eat meat again, and at some point in my life, I will fly in a plane again, and at some point, many things will happen. It is hard to navigate these systems of which I don’t want to be a part of, but in the end, no one is a winner. There is nothing to win. And also these systems are constantly moving and shifting, new waves hit and new lines need to be drawn out again.

And all I really need is to sleep and to eat, to keep myself clean, to keep myself whole, to keep myself at peace. All that I have is myself to carry my backpack. Other than that, there is really nothing.

Sometimes I long for company. Sometimes, I am happy like this.

And yet, I want to see it all. I want to take it in, as it stands. Despite the big systems that scare me, despite that we’ve built a world that isn’t actually built for our bodies and in which, I believe, very few people are actually happy.

In the light of a flashlight, I ate. From a plastic bag, bread. From a plastic jar, peanut butter. From another plastic bag, radishes.

Now, in the dark, I listen around me, beyond the sounds of the highway. Accustomise myself to my surroundings, sink into it. Over and around me, the trees and the ivy are guarding my breaths. I see an outline of a mouse climbing over a small branch, soundless.

In cracks like these, I find peace.

…

(This story told in pictures.)