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swedesinstockholm · 7 months

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15 août

j'ai passé deux heures à marcher à travers la ville dans un état de désillusion complète ce soir, non pas de désillusion, d'illusion justement, je voulais dire delusion, delusional, delulu comme disent les jeunes américains, r. m'a écrit à quatre heures du matin pendant qu'il faisait une insomnie alors qu'il dormait dans une tente avec sa fille plantée dans le jardin de sa mère et y avait un orage et il entendait la musique des voisins et il arrivait plus à se rendormir et c'est à MOI qu'il a écrit of all people, il me demandait comment ça allait avec mon film, il pensait à moi et à mon film à quatre heures du matin dans une tente avec sa fille, comment je suis sensée ne pas être complètement delulu?

ce matin en lisant ses messages j'ai senti la joie couler partout dans mon corps et j'ai essayé d'en localiser la source, quelque part dans le thorax, au milieu, c'est là que je le sens quand je me sens aimée. même s'il m'aime pas amoureusement, il m'aime quand même. et quand je vivais encore dans l'illusion et que j'espérais passer un été d'amour avec lui à bruxelles, ça s'est peut être pas passé comme je l'espérais, mais finalement je suis quand même un peu en train de passer un été d'amour avec lui, amour à l'eau plate et à distance mais amour quand même. amour amour amour dans mon coeur ce soir pendant ma promenade, j'écoutais des trucs pop en m'imaginant les chanter avec sa fille chez lui pendant que je lui prépare des gâteaux dans la cuisine par exemple une tarte à la myrtille et on fait des petites chorégraphies et on chante en criant la chanson de caroline polachek et évidemment r. finit par tomber sous mon charme. delulu level 1000. je dois vraiment faire très attention.

à part ça je suis restée un bon quart d'heure accoudée à une balustrade qui surplombait la vallée et c'était vraiment bien de regarder quelque chose qui n'était pas mon écran d'ordinateur, tout ce vert, toute cette réalité, même si j'étais à moitié perdue dans mes fantasmes à l'intérieur de ma tête.

16 août

à chaque fois que j'écris avec r. avant de me coucher j'arrive pas à m'endormir après et j'arrive pas à me concentrer sur mon livre non plus. gaëlle obiégly dit que publier son journal c'est comme parler la bouche pleine et d'abord ça m'a vexée mais toutes mes jérémiades sur r. là c'est plus possible, même sur tumblr. on a regardé le nouvel épisode de how to ce soir et puis à onze heures il a dit bon je vais au lit mais on a encore passé trois quarts d'heures à s'écrire et il a évoqué notre future performance et le fait d'avoir ça dans notre futur commun, un peu comme une garantie qu'il va pas disparaître du jour au lendemain, qu'il veut rester là, qu'on va se revoir, ça me donne un très grand sentiment de sérénité. ça me rassure. même si en réalité c'est pas du tout une garantie, il peut tout à fait changer d'avis du jour au lendemain. il a changé de photo de profil sur whatsapp, heureusement il met que des photos où il est moche. je me demande s'il le fait par égard pour moi.

dans le nouvel épisode de how, john wilson mentionne sa rupture avec sa copine et j'étais honteusement satisfaite qu'il se retrouve seul comme moi. mais je parie que même lui ne voudrait pas de moi. j'ai l'impression d'avoir franchi un cap dans ma relation avec mon physique, que toute ma vie je me suis voilé la face et que je me suis enfin rendu compte que j'étais moche. peu importe l'angle sous lequel on me tourne, je suis moche, c'est un fait, c'est comme ça et je peux rien y faire. je comprends pas pourquoi ça m'a pris autant de temps pour sortir de mon illusion d'être un peu mignonne, ou au moins d'avoir un charme atypique. hier j'ai essayé de mettre du rouge à lèvres mais c'était encore pire. maintenant quand je vois des moches ça me rassure, j'ai l'impression qu'on fait partie de la même communauté des moches, je suis pas seule, on est des millions. des gens au physique disgracieux. vraiment disgracieux, pas comme gaëlle obiégly, cette impostrice.

17 août

jenna lyons dans real housewives of new york a ravivé mon feu de lesbienne qui dormait quelque part dans mon bas ventre et c'est fantastique. gaëlle obiégly dit que publier son journal c'est comme parler la bouche pleine mais elle a manifestement jamais vu jenna lyons marmonner des remarques sarcastiques tout en se goinfrant d'oreos périmés et de pringles au caviar dans real housewives of new york. rien de rédhibitoire là-dedans. j'ai lu qu'elle avait une maladie génétique qui fait qu'elle a des taches et des marques sur sa peau et qu'elle a pas de cils ni de sourcils et qu'elle a des trous dans ses cheveux et que ça a détruit sa confiance en elle parce qu'on la harcelait à l'école et qu'au début de sa carrière chez j. crew elle se trouvait affreuse sur les photos parce qu'elle avait pas encore trouvé son style, et puis elle a commencé à portes des grandes lunettes pour se camoufler derrière et des tenues qui montrent très peu de peau et elle attachait systématiquement ses cheveux en les plaquant en arrière pour cacher les trous et c'est devenu son style signature. elle dit qu'elle montre jamais ses jambes parce qu'elles ont des taches et de la cellulite et pendant une seconde je me suis dit est-ce que je devrais faire comme elle et cacher mes imperfections (non mais quel mot) et ne jamais montrer mes jambes moi non plus? mais non. je préfère être du côté de celles qui assument leurs imperfections (ce MOT), ou du moins qui essaient. même si ça "m'avantage pas." même si parfois je me demande si je devrais pas mettre plus de soin à "m'avantager." faire des efforts pour trouver un look qui "m'avantage," comme elle, pour me donner plus confiance en moi. un look qui me donne de la tenue, une consistance, une colonne vertébrale redressée. un look clean et net. sharp.

elle raconte aussi que sa mère avait le syndrome d'asperger et qu'elle avait pas d'amis et que donc elle lui avait jamais appris comment on se faisait des amis, comment ça fonctionnait, et qu'elle aussi elle avait du mal à se faire des amis, qu'elle savait toujours pas vraiment comment on faisait, qu'elle partait toujours du principe que les gens n'avaient pas envie de passer du temps avec elle et que donc elle attendait que ça vienne d'eux, pour ne pas prendre le risque du rejet. et j'ai pensé à maman, qui a peu d'amis elle aussi, même si elle a pas du tout asperger, et je me suis demandé si ma vie sociale maigrichonne venait de là. alors je me demande, est-ce que je peux encore apprendre à devenir sociable? est-ce qu'un jour j'aurai des vrais amis qui habitent à proximité de chez moi ET que j'ai envie de voir?

18 août

j'ai encore passé une heure sur whatsapp avec r. chaque soir je le fais se coucher de plus en plus tard, je rigolais toute seule avec les jambes en l'air en lisant ses messages et il me disait qu'il avait littéralement éclaté de rire quand j'avais dit un truc on se fait mourir de rire mutuellement et c'est merveilleux. j'ai lancé un concours de noms pour notre groupe inspiré par les feutres de bingo américains et puis il m'a fait un long message vocal pour m'expliquer qu'il adorait ma façon d'écrire sans accents ni majuscules et parfois quand il me dit certains trucs il me donne l'impression d'être quelqu'un de sage et de bon conseil, quelqu'un qui a de l'expérience de vie. de la bouteille. j'aime bien cette expression. c'est quoi cette sorcellerie? il m'a cassé ma relation avec mon physique mais en contrepartie il me fait voir d'autres facettes de moi que je vois absolument jamais.

#stuff

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blinkvlink · 1 year

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i'm lying on the moon (my dear, i'll be there soon)

F!Detective x Adam du Mortain

Summary: life gets hard, Helena tries to hold on.

TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Mentioned Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm Themes

Read on AO3

'Love shouldn’t be made of fear.’ She read in her father’s journal. The leather was torn and dashed, on the cover. She had sunk her nails into it while she sat on her childhood room’s floor. ‘We should love with heart. Life is too short for anything else.’

She thinks he must have written that after meeting her. The woman with the dark brown hair, cold eyes yet soft hands. She can’t figure out how they work. She decides it’s due to not holding for a long time. From not caressing and pressing down. One doesn’t need to touch so hard and so long to push. It is a movement that happens in the blink of an eye after all.

He must have noticed the need for bravery in the art of doting after he met her. After he saw the way she carried herself. She wonders if he listened close enough to hear the metal cling of her armor when she moved. Were the words written in an unapproving gaze? Or was he trying to find the courage within himself to love her despite who she was. It doesn’t matter, she thinks. In the end of the day, he fell for her, made space for himself in her heart. So big and so vast that with him gone, she is no longer whole.

We should love with heart, she wants to say to him, wants to beg on her knees, to scream it in his face. She thinks if she does any of that, she will find the power within herself too. But he leaves, slams the door shut. And she stays, a part of her still reaching out.

‘You are so much like him.’ they all say, referring to both body and soul. Looking at the mirror becomes a chore. She bites down on the answer, blood and flesh alike. ‘No. I am not brave enough to love.’

Farah, the girl with eyes and heart of gold tells her jokes, keeps her heart light and soft. One day, after a long and never ending face painting event for the Wayhaven Elementary School, she sits her down and dips the thin tip of the brush to the yellow paint. Puts small dots on her nose, on her cheeks and she leans down, presses her lips to her forehead. Tells her she was made of stardust and light. Her words are confirmed when the young vampire flashes her a grin brighter than the sun, their laughter echoing like it will resonate within the four walls evermore.

“Are you giving up?” she asks one day, as they sit in front of the television. Jake Gylnhall starts screaming, she can’t make out a word he says. “Or did you already give up?”

Her feet are dangled in Helena’s lap, they are wearing pajamas and sipping on vodka and cherry juice. It burns as she swallows, sweet and bitter in her mouth. It has captivated the entire flat, the sharp scent. She can feel the bright gaze on the side of her neck. Her therapist who she last saw months ago would be disappointed in the counter question she hears within her own mind. ‘On what?’

“I don’t know.” she mumbles. Silence presses down, curious. “I don’t know.”

They leave it at that. She is forever grateful for it.

He tells her about his family, and describes them in detail. Says he got his blond, shining hair from his father. The green belonged to his mother, a color he and his sibling shared. 12 years between them, yet Cecilia and him were the ones that looked alike the most, slightly different versions of each other. From their dimples to their laughs. He confesses, before he can stop it, that when he found her, bloodied and drained of life, he thought he was looking at his own corpse. And how he still wishes it was so.

She doesn’t-can’t- say anything as she reaches out, hand landing on his shoulder and she squeezes. His eyes blink shut, and she counts. 1,2,3…8 seconds to draw away from the touch, to hide himself behind all too familiar walls. He mumbles out words which she can hear but can’t understand and then he leaves like he does. She stands outside, barefoot, grass underneath. She doesn’t tell him that this is where she grew up, waiting. Doesn’t tell him how her own mother didn’t- couldn’t- look at her in the face because it was just so similar to his. She never had a body to look over and think she was staring into a lifeless version of herself, only reflections. All she had was photos and a single headstone she sat by, silent and hopeful. Besides, his eyes shine in every single captured moment her mother lets her see. So she can’t imagine him without a heartbeat, she just can’t.

The woman's face haunts her in her nightmares, her motionless body lying down at her feet as Helena stares at her hands, crimson red. He looks at her and screams. Asks 'What have you done?' She has made the wrong choice again. There is blood on her hands. Will it wash away if she drowns herself in the waters the woman touched with the tip of her finger?

'Forgive me, please-'

When she wakes up, her eyes are wet. She blinks the tears away before pressing her face down at her pillow, fingers grabbing the sheets so hard she is sure they will pierce through them. Guilt ripples within her like rain. She whispers thousands of little apologies until she falls asleep.

Nate keeps a close eye on her, watches her movements when he thinks she isn’t seeing. When she turns to face him, his smile is as bright, assuring. So is her’s. They mirror each other, talk about everything and anything. But when she looks somewhere else, she can see the way his face falls, from the corner of her eye.

She wonders if he can feel her slipping, feel her pull away, slowly. Can he hear when she thinks of retreating somewhere safe, somewhere warm? Is the dark circles around her eyes worse than she thought? The other’s don’t seem to think anything is wrong with her. They are all the same. So why isn’t he?

One night, she is on her way out from the warehouse when he stops her in the middle of the hallway. The clock on the gray wall shows 2 and her eyes burn from the lack of rest. Yet she gives it her all, chuckles at the beat and doesn't cross her arms over her chest. Shows him that she is open, that this is her and there is nothing hiding in the dark.

When the small talk is over, he extends her a book. She takes it from his hands, slow and delicate.

“I recently finished it.” he says, his smile still lingering on his lips. She can’t help but break one as well, teeth and all. “I remember you saying you wanted to but didn’t know what to read. I thought this might help you get back into the habit.”

She turns the book around, stares at the brown pages. It's old. She can tell. And not 10 years kind of old. 50 or 70 years perhaps. Pages that were around when she wasn't.

“Thank you.” she chimes, looks him in the eye. That's when his smile falters. Slowly.

“Are you okay, Helena?”

It's like a bullet finding its target, sudden and painful. Her entire body works together to keep the smile she wears afloat. She plays the scene well.

“Yes. I’m okay.”

Chemistry class, 10 in the morning. Her eyes stared down the window of the second floor and she imagined the fall. The screams and the terror and the bone and the flesh. Skull cracked open like an egg, eyes watching the sun go down from both where it belonged and from somewhere further, where no one could see. Seeing from above as they buried her upon her father, soil traveling down her throat as insects diminished her form. A surrender of sorts, to the arms of the only one who would not be scared of the love within her that wants to bloom out of her.

She decided against the idea, in the end. There was no telling if it was all certain. And she needed a promise, needed the word of something greater that if she took the risk and she did the deed, his smile would be guaranteed.

Yet time changed her, touched her and set her aflame. She took the risk, swallowed it down and lied down on her bed. It was night time, outside there were a thousand stars ready to welcome her home. She was 17.

The unusual stillness within her mind let itself wander into places it couldn’t before because it was so focused on surviving. She recalled the day where she and her were in the armory of the warehouse, where her dear mother told her that she had no idea about the details of her father’s death. That she didn’t have the clearance for it at the time. And that caused conflict in her mind. How could a chamber member not be in the clearance to know the details of their own husband’s death?

The rest is still blurry, she notices. The walk to find Rebecca, the fight itself. The only thing she actually remembers from it all is the way her face twisted when Helena blurted out the connection she made. She is pretty sure, however, that’s when she started screaming.

What took her to show up was her heart stopping and being started again by force.

Things happen, things escalate. It slides down her throat like water until the bottle is empty, a perfect resemblance to what she feels as her head gets lighter and lighter. But something is pulling her down. A tug, to the gentle floor and beyond that, to the soil. She let’s it take her. And that’s when he finds her. Lying down on the carpet, eyes red. Heart clawing at her chest to jump out and end it all.

When he carries her to her room, he calls her detective. Anger burns her more than the alcohol did. She tells him to fuck off.

“I don’t have time like you do.” she whispers, tears sliding down. She is trying to push herself away but it’s in her blood to pull, to stay and to hope. When he grabs her arms and tries to keep her steady, she notices her hands are not like his. Hers are wounded, unsmooth. How long has she been grabbing at things that leave her bleeding, alone? Where does it all begin?

“When will you kiss me? When my heart stops and my eyes lose the light within them? Will you tell me you love me when my headstone is placed on my grave? Or will you wait until there is nothing left but bones just to be sure?”

She hates that she loves the way his body responds to the questions, the way his muscles tense as if something pierced his skin and found its way underneath. She wants to dig deeper, tear muscle by muscle. Wants to look him in the eyes and asks if it hurts. But he opens the door, lays her down. His green eyes shine with unshed tears underneath the fairy lights she forgot to turn off. And then he leaves. He leaves, he leaves, he leaves-

“You said you were not strong enough to break again.” she whispers from behind him. She trusts that he will hear every word. “It didn’t matter, did it? You broke me instead.”

They don't talk about it, they let it die. He doesn't let it get to him. A soldier through and through.

She can feel its ghost haunt her though. And she can swear there are scars behind the curtain. A few months ago, she would have reached out and asked if she could help, knowing she opened them. But now, she watches him as he walks and keeps her mouth shut. God knows she said all she could say to him.

She is still there, barefoot. She waits, silent.

Old habits greet her like old friends. It feels as if they have been waiting at the edge of her mind, patiently, looking out for the moment where she would bend enough to break. She settles into them, closes her eyes, tries and fails to ignore how easily the smoke rolls down her throat, as if the last time she allowed herself to inhale it wasn’t 3 years ago. She ignores the gutting feeling of hunger until she can't form a single thought, starves herself and pushes her limits.

She takes away seconds from her future to feel the warmth which she just can’t seem to find in the people she wants to find it in the most. Punishes herself for things she knows she didn't do.

One day, Morgan catches her outside, cigarette between her two fingers. Her brows rise, seemingly not being able to hide the shock. She collects herself quickly though, and calls Helena a hypocrite. She laughs and agrees before swallowing the smoke like it's water.

They are returning from the facility back to Wayhaven when she grabs her arm and stops her from walking towards the car. Her touch is soft, like the way she would want to be held. And her usual wolfish appearance is softened at the edges by worry. Nose wrinkled as if the words she is about to speak are sour upon her tongue. Nate and Farah keep walking, leaves crunching beneath their feet as they do.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” she whispers, knowing damn well the other two will hear. She practically spits it out from between her teeth, canines sharp as she sneers and frowns at the same time. “It’s hurting you, he is hurting you, Hel.”

She is partially both happy and sad that he is not there with them to hear her speak. He is still deep underground, walking the halls of the facility with her, running errands and discussing plans. She doubts he would do anything if he heard any of the things Morgan said, doubts that he would give her anything other than a pained glance before he hid himself away again. It’s what he did, as they were leaving. Brown and green met for the shortest moment, he was saying a thousand words in that gaze, singing a thousand songs. She wanted to lean forward- her very soul was pulling her forward to hear them, hear every single thing he held in his grasp before he deafened her again, left her scared and abandoned in the dark.

Her lips part to say something, to say anything. To say that she doesn’t care or doesn’t mind. That she understands. But it doesn’t come out. She is out of lies to birth.

“I-”

“Helena. I care about that stupid brick of a man. I do. But I care about you too.” she meets her eye and gives it to her straight. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Do you hear me?"

There is something else there, she doesn’t let it roll off of her tongue but says it anyway.

‘It’s going to kill you. He will be the death of you.’

Tears. She hates herself, she does. All she can do is nod as she feels the lesson being burned into her existence once more. Morgan doesn’t say anything about the way her face shines. She simply squeezes her shoulder, and keeps her walking. Keeps her moving. Her hand remains on the edge of her neck until they reach the car.

Exhaustion creeps up on her, strangling her in the back seat. When she is defeated, she lets her head fall on the vampire’s shoulder, eyes fluttering close. They both know neither of them will tell a word about how Morgan places her own head upon Helena’s. It’s a silent agreement. She keeps the oath close to her heart as street lights linger on them for a mere moment and then pass like kisses from a lover.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #a du mortain #adam du mortain #twc 3 #the wayhaven chronicles book 3 #twc rebecca #farah hauville #twc detective #nate sewell #twc morgan #twc fic

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 10 months

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Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies chp 9

here is the latest chapter of read it below

Daniel gets back to reading. Eventually, he has to stop. Claudia, Charlie, Lestat, the incinerator. It’s too much.

“Vivid writer, isn’t she?” It’s Louis, who crept in from resting. “A singular style.”

“Anne Frank meets Stephen King,” Daniel says, then gets ready to start recording. “Session four, Louis de Pointe du Lac, and the child vampire, Claudia.”

Daniel pulls off his glasses. “So, it begs the question, where were all these diaries in 1973?”

Louis glances at him. “Scattered. One in New Orleans, another in Paris.”

He’s lying. “Bullshit.”

Louis walks over and sits in a chair in the sand pit near the tree. He crosses his legs and closes his eyes. “Claudia was…everything.” His eyes open and he looks at Daniel. “I loved her unconditionally. All the noise, the chaos, the crisis of my former existence, silenced. The simple joy of her hand in mine.”

“You had a daughter.”

“I had a daughter.”

Daniel gets it. Daughters and fathers can be complicated things. “I’ve got two. The love is kind of…”

He doesn’t know how to describe it. It’s the all encompassing love that makes you want to get your shit together and be a better person. The kind that understands you waited too late to try. But he’s not going to think about his daughters.

“And if you were to come across their diaries and learn, in detail, how and when you failed them, would you share those failures with a brash young reporter you met at Polynesian Mary’s?”

Daniel chuckles. Louis makes a point. “It’s funny. I’ve been dreaming about old Mary’s ever since you sent me the tapes.”

Louis rises and gestures to the books. “Where have you reached?”

Was that a deflection? Interesting. Something to ponder later.

“1923-ish. Her date with Charlie.”

Something flickers in Louis’ eyes. “Ah.”

Daniel pushes his glasses back on and looks at the journal. “And his bones-”

“Cracked black and his face turned to soup,” Louis finishes. Daniel pulls his glasses back off and studies him.

“Charlie’s death ushered in one of the darkest eras of our lives,” Louis continues. “The oh-so-delicate balance of our oh-so-delicate household was shattered. The fantasy of happiness burst. Claudia was…”

“A band-aid for a shitty marriage?” Daniel supplies.

“I was going to say…” Louis starts, then turns his back to Daniel “...something else.”

Daniel waits for Louis to continue. Louis goes and sits down. “But yes…that’s almost certainly what she felt like.”

Daniel doesn’t exactly know what to say next, but Louis throws him a curveball. “Rashid will be joining us later. That won’t bother you, will it, Daniel?”

Hadn’t he started this saying no third parties? Then again, he’d also started this saying he was straight and Rashid came in and wrecked that? So why not this? “Ah, no. It’s fine.”

“Yes, I thought you might say so.”

Daniel narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”

Louis gives him a look too innocent to be sincere. “Nothing, Daniel.”

Daniel doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just holds up the diary. “I gotta get back to reading.”

Louis makes some small noise in reply, then stands. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Daniel watches him leave and takes a deep breath. Does Louis know? He can read minds, and Daniel has been thinking of Rashid quite a bit. A bit too much, to be honest. He’s letting himself get distracted and sloppy. And he still doesn’t know what Rashid’s end game is.

Daniel reads and takes notes on his laptop for the next hour. Then he decides to go to his room and catch a nap. His sleep schedule is fucked from interviewing a vampire. And Rashid keeping him up demanding sex hasn’t exactly helped.

He drifts off easily enough. Daniel doesn’t remember opening his eyes or leaving his room, but he’s standing in the living room now. Louis and Rashid are standing together on the balcony, Louis looking at Rashid seriously. Daniel moves a little closer, hoping to overhear something before they notice him.

“How long do you plan to keep this up, ‘Rashid’?” There’s something strange about the way he says Rashid’s name that Daniel doesn’t understand. Is it not his real name? Does Louis have him using a fake name or something?

“As long as I can,” Rashid says, though something in his posture is different now. Less deferential. He goes still and sweeps his eyes across the room, passing over Daniel as though he were invisible.

Daniel holds out a hand and he can’t see it in front of him. What is going on?

“Do you feel that?” says Rashid. “That’s the second time I’ve felt it.”

“Hm?”

Rashid ignores Louis’s questioning look and closes his eyes. Daniel feels like he’s been shoved in the chest. He wakes up, jolting up on his bed and breathing hard.

What the hell was that?

#iwtv fic

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 1 month

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Researchers find first experimental evidence for a graviton-like particle in a quantum material

A team of scientists from Columbia, Nanjing University, Princeton, and the University of Munster, writing in the journal Nature, have presented the first experimental evidence of collective excitations with spin called chiral graviton modes (CGMs) in a semiconducting material.

A CGM appears to be similar to a graviton, a yet-to-be-discovered elementary particle better known in high-energy quantum physics for hypothetically giving rise to gravity, one of the fundamental forces in the universe, whose ultimate cause remains mysterious.

The ability to study graviton-like particles in the lab could help fill critical gaps between quantum mechanics and Einstein's theories of relativity, solving a major dilemma in physics and expanding our understanding of the universe.

"Our experiment marks the first experimental substantiation of this concept of gravitons, posited by pioneering works in quantum gravity since the 1930s, in a condensed matter system," said Lingjie Du, a former Columbia postdoc and senior author on the paper.

The team discovered the particle in a type of condensed matter called a fractional quantum Hall effect (FQHE) liquid. FQHE liquids are a system of strongly interacting electrons that occur in two dimensions at high magnetic fields and low temperatures. They can be theoretically described using quantum geometry, emerging mathematical concepts that apply to the minute physical distances at which quantum mechanics influences physical phenomena.

Electrons in an FQHE are subject to what's known as a quantum metric that had been predicted to give rise to CGMs in response to light. However, in the decade since the quantum metric theory was first proposed for FQHEs, limited experimental techniques existed to test its predictions.

For much of his career, the Columbia physicist Aron Pinczuk studied the mysteries of FQHE liquids and worked to develop experimental tools that could probe such complex quantum systems. Pinczuk, who joined Columbia from Bell Labs in 1998 and was a professor of physics and applied physics, passed away in 2022, but his lab and its alumni across the globe have continued his legacy. Those alumni include article authors Ziyu Liu, who graduated with his Ph.D. in physics from Columbia last year, and former Columbia postdocs Du, now at Nanjing University, and Ursula Wurstbauer, now at the University of Münster.

"Aron pioneered the approach of studying exotic phases of matter, including emergent quantum phases in solid state nanosystems, by the low-lying collective excitation spectra that are their unique fingerprints," commented Wurstbauer, a co-author on the current work.

"I am truly happy that his last genius proposal and research idea was so successful and is now published in Nature. However, it is sad that he cannot celebrate it with us. He always put a strong focus on the people behind the results."

One of the techniques Pinczuk established was called low-temperature resonant inelastic scattering, which measures how light particles, or photons, scatter when they hit a material, thus revealing the material's underlying properties.

Liu and his co-authors on the paper adapted the technique to use what's known as circularly polarized light, in which the photons have a particular spin. When the polarized photons interact with a particle like a CGM that also spins, the sign of the photons' spin will change in response in a more distinctive way than if they were interacting with other types of modes.

The new paper was an international collaboration. Using samples prepared by Pinczuk's long-time collaborators at Princeton, Liu and Columbia physicist Cory Dean completed a series of measurements at Columbia. They then sent the sample for experiments in low-temperature optical equipment that Du spent over three years building in his new lab in China.

They observed physical properties consistent with those predicted by quantum geometry for CGMs, including their spin-2 nature, characteristic energy gaps between its ground and excited states, and dependence on so-called filling factors, which relate the number of electrons in the system to its magnetic field.

CGMs share those characteristics with gravitons, a still-undiscovered particle predicted to play a critical role in gravity. Both CGMs and gravitons are the result of quantized metric fluctuations, explained Liu, in which the fabric of spacetime is randomly pulled and stretched in different directions.

The theory behind the team's results can therefore potentially connect two subfields of physics: high energy physics, which operates across the largest scales of the universe, and condensed matter physics, which studies materials and the atomic and electronic interactions that give them their unique properties.

In future work, Liu says the polarized light technique should be straightforward to apply to FQHE liquids at higher energy levels than they explored in the current paper. It should also apply to additional types of quantum systems where quantum geometry predicts unique properties from collective particles, such as superconductors.

"For a long time, there was this mystery about how long wavelength collective modes, like CGMs, could be probed in experiments. We provide experimental evidence that supports quantum geometry predictions," said Liu. "I think Aron would be very proud to see this extension of his techniques and new understanding of a system he had studied for a long time."

TOP IMAGE....Light probing a chiral graviton mode in a fractional quantum Hall effect liquid. Credit: Lingjie Du, Nanjing University

LOWER IMAGE....Graviton modes and inelastic light scattering. Credit: Nature (2024). DOI: 10.1038/s41586-024-07201-w

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #astrophysics

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blazedrawsstuff · 2 years

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Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Ghouls! Monsters of all shapes and size, allow me to introduce your Master of Scaremonies, the darling of HorrorLand: Horrley Emcee! Hope you've got your tickets ready.

Horrley Emcee

Daughter of the HorrorLand Horrors

Parent

The HorrorLand M.C

Age

Killer Style

Mom says when it comes to my style, I like to bring the show with me! You see me in my "circus chic" look and you already know that I mean big fun and big thrills!

Freaky Flaw

I may look all "fun and games" but you do NOT want to send me over the edge, cause I'll make sure you go down that edge with me!

Pet

The one and only, the humongous hamster himself: Cuddles! And I do mean humongous! Big as an English Mastiff! He wasn't always like that, until he got into the Mad Labs' science experiments that is...Boy did I get a mouthful from mom when she found out.

Favorite Activity

After a long day of school and helping out at the park, there's nothing I love more than kicking off my shoes and watching some good ol' game shows on The Monster Channel. Say, have you seen the Raw Deal? It's quite killer!

Pet Peeve

No pinching! Read the sign bub! Not only is it really rude, for us Horrors, it's worse than getting burnt by your fresh-from-the-fryer funnel cake! Heck, back in the day, pinching would make us go Poof! Woosh! Gone! Flattened just like a balloon.

Favorite Subject

Physics! Up, down, and all around, it's what makes things like roller coasters such chilling thrill-rides!

Least Favorite Subject

Journalism. Personal gripe, but I oughta smack the guy who said "any publicity is good publicity", when sensationalist headlines accuse of your theme park of "unsafe rides" and "unsanitary food", in what world does that fit the category of "good publicity"? Take it from our PR department: The world of journalism like a pit of lying, attention-seeking vipers

Favorite Colors

Green, black, red, and purple

Favorite Food

If you're visiting the park, I recommend getting the "Scaries Goo-bilee", it's three scoops of pistachio ice cream, drizzled with gooberry sauce, and topped with die-licous gooseberries. Mmm mm mm! Dare I say, it's to die for!

Friends

Jaclyn O' Lantern (OC, BFF)

Gooliope Jellington

Personality

Horrley's personality reflects that of the park itself. Fun-loving, bubbly, energetic, and oh so theatrical. She has a very showman-like demeanor, and is overall pretty hammy. She has a rather tomboyish and sassy side too, often using slang terms like "bub".

However she does a aggressive and beastly side to her, especially when pinched or otherwise irritated, and can occasionally get physical. She also does have a habit of holding grudges against others, such as journalists. There are also times when she is gets overdramatic over little things.

Trivia/Additional Information

Horrley's name is based on the name "Harley" combined with the word "Horror" Her last name, "Emcee" comes from the term MC, which means "Master of Ceremonies".

Her favorite food is based off the ice cream seen on the cover of the Goosebumps 2000 book: "Return to HorrorLand", with the gooseberry toppings also referencing the respective series, as well as resembling the green slime often associated with said series. It's name is a pun on the ice cream flavor "Cherries Jubilee"

Horrley's relationship with Gooliope isn't just because of similar aesthetics and themes. Freak du Chic occasionally does shows at HorrorLand!

Her hairstyle was based off of Pinkie Pie's from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, specifically how the curls were drawn.

Her birthday is October 25th, which is the day the first part of the "One Day at HorrorLand" two-parter episode of the Goosebumps TV series was aired on Fox Kids. This makes her a Scorpio.

Horrley's headcanon voice is Katie Crown who voiced Izzy from the Total Drama series. A series, which just like the Goosebumps TV series, was produced in Canada.

#monster high #monster high oc #monster high fanart #goosebumps #goosebumps fanart #horrley emcee

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fergus-cousland · 11 months

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gawain is also lying on his bed doodling in his journal and every page is just “gawain du lac” outlined in love hearts but also swords and decapitations (also done in pink gel pen)

#this is why he's guinevere's favourite nephew. they have so much in common

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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[KISS] Thursday 7.. August 1834

9 35

12 5

she came to me about eight to warm her stomach still bowel complaint and it ended in a long good kiss to her and our lying till tolerably cool on having my motion fancied cousin coming and so he did gently after breakfast but have not put anything on all today fine morning F68° at 10 ½ am – breakfast at 11 – made tea for A- (1st time) in our Jones’s boiler – put the tea into boiling water and let it have 2 or 3 bubblings afterwards and it answered marvellously - A- enjoyed it, and ate a large plat of strawberries and has seemed better ever since – wrote out the 1st 50 lines of yesterday till 2 ½ - then off in light calêche and 1 horse at 3 (our host driving us) to Pont St Laurent [St. Laurent-du-Pont] to see the new road from there here - at the tolerably good village of St. Etienne in 50 minutes at 3 50 – all the women sitting their doors spinning there as here – in 8 or 10 minutes get to the narrow Defile thro’ the calcareous rock – about 20 minutes passing thro’ it –workmen there – good road – at 4 35 at the little village of Ensivière not marked on Chaix’s map and at St Laurent du Pont at 5 – sat in the carriage 25 minutes while A- ate her cold poulet and drank her brandy and water I got out and walked over the good wooden bridge, oak below and poplar above not to be so slippery - back and off again at 5 ½ - walked up the hill from 6 10 to 6 ½ the last ¼ hour thro’ the fine Defile – met the engineer there - 40,000fr. already spent and would take 30000fr. more to finish the road - could not be till 1836, as the supply refused for next year but promised to be given that following - a road departmental now - would by and by be a route royale - when made good, government would then take it - at home at 7 ½ - very fine view from the hill above Voiron – right (going) large, white, good building now the Chartreusine (female Chartreux) bought ten years ago for this purpose – a chateau just now bought near the town by a fraternity of monks – the priests now as well off under Louis Philippe as under Charles X – some nice grass and farming landing at the top of the hill worth 1000/. per journal of 600 toises carrés and lets for 100/. per journal - this the 2nd quality of land - the 1st (about the town) worth 3,000/. per journal and lets for 300/. per ditto - and yet she said, in buying land, are had only 3 pc. here - 2 large manufactories built here lastly by Lyons merchants in consequence of the union work at L- Voiron has considerable commerce in linen cloth - the distance from Lyons to Echelles [Les Échelles] by Pont de Beauvoisin or Voiron not ½ hour longer by the latter - dinner at 7 ¾ to 9 - A- much better - wrote out all but the 1st 50 lines of yesterday and the whole of today till 10 55 - very fine day - F68° at 11 ½ pm - being master of the poste here (Voiron) worth 1500fr. a year

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darkskyatnight · 2 years

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Boris. Fucking. Johnson.

Alexander du Pfeiffel Johnson.

The fuck can I say about this odious little CUNT that hasn’t already been said?

This evil, corrupt little fucking- I don’t genuinely have a word evil enough to describe him.

I remember your first wife, your first child. Then I remember your second wife, your second and third children. Then I remember when you left your second wife when she had cancer and left her for a new woman, and got her pregnant too.

Fuck you you utter fucking WANKER.

You got away with posting xenophobic shit through people’s letterboxes for fifteen years, you got sacked from your “journalism” job for lying, and then your stupid daddy got you into politics. I bet it was him that’s been elevating you to power all these years right? Daddy’s money because you’re too stupid to make any of your own you thieving liar.

You and your little fuckheads in Parliament are all safe aren’t you? With your human rights violations, your banning the right to protest, your may I remind you FAILED Rwandan deportations, your abuse of the Irish peoples, your blatant disregard for the North, Scotland and her peoples, you shit on the lower classes, you burn our money in front of us, LITERALLY MIGHT I ADD.

You call us picaninnies, you call us b*m-boys, I’m not even going to get into the fucking casual racism your mouth seems to spew, it’s a wonder there’s any shit left in that lard dump you call a stomach. Oh, you fed that right up with those parties, that wine and cheese. Oh, don’t think I didn’t see what you were doing with Google keywords with that little trick by the way, no-one’s falling for that shit. You hide the actual headlines under your interviews like “oh I love painting little red busses,’ when the actual headline is “Boris Johnson lies about red bus promise,’ so FUCK YOU. You will do anything to cling to power, and you are a leech on society.

No wonder you can’t keep track of how many children you have. You have sycophants licking your boots for free, you have actual oligarch fascists in your Parliament ordering you around, remember Yevgeny? I do too you bitch.

You know Priti and Rishi will just leave you once you’ve served your purpose? Rishi can go back to his non-dom wife and live on his laurels, Priti will keep pushing her xenophobe policies as per usual, hateful cow.

This, this is how utterly furious I am with this government. This is me venting, but let it be known that every single word I say about you is true to the most inelegant swear word. Boris Johnson is a lying, traitorous, snivelling, weaselly CUNT. And never let that be forgotten.

And now this, this pittance of a windfall tax amongst the cost-of-living crisis, and you can’t even be arsed to give us that little bit of leverage. You really are just a pitiful, evil little prick aren’t you? About as little as that tiny dot down there right?

Johnson is a fascist through and through.

#uk politics #i despise you alexander #that is your real name

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spotjardin · 7 months

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Que faire au jardin du lundi 16 au dimanche 22 octobre 2023

Vous y trouverez tous les renseignements nécessaires, et si besoin n’hésitez pas à poser vos questions en commentaire afin d’avoir des précisions supplémentaires. Jour fleurs

Plantez des jonquilles Au jardin d'agrément C'est encore temps de planter des vivaces et des bisannuelles tels la primevère ou bien encore la jonquille, que vous avez peut être semé pendant la saison estivale (entre le mois de juin et le mois d’août). Sinon, achetez-les dans une jardinerie. Plantez également de l'hémérocalle, du muguet, de la pivoine, des bulbes qui fleurissent à la saison printanière sans oublier les lys (sauf le lys de la Madone). Plantez des arbustes à fleurs comme par exemple le forsythia, le lilas, l'abélia ou bien encore le lilas de Perse. Effectuez les divisions des souches des plantes vivaces. Arrachez les bulbes qui craignent le froid comme par exemple les cannas, les glaïeuls, les dahlias et les bégonias. Laissez les rhizomes et les bulbes sécher à l'ombre pendant 48 heures en les retournant de temps en temps. Ensuite, stockez-les dans des boites hermétiques ou bien dans des boites à chaussures que vous devez installer dans un local sec et hors gel. Au jardin potager Plantez du chou-fleur de printemps. Protégez vos artichauts avant l'arrivée des premières gelées en réduisant un peu le feuillage. Liez-les et effectuez un buttage sur une vingtaine de centimètres. Si vous habitez une région froide, paillez-les. Lundi 16 OCTOBRE Jour fleurs

Plantez de l'hémérocalle Au jardin d'agrément C'est encore temps de planter des vivaces et des bisannuelles tels la primevère ou bien encore la jonquille, que vous avez peut être semé pendant la saison estivale (entre le mois de juin et le mois d’août). Sinon, achetez-les dans une jardinerie. Plantez également de l'hémérocalle, du muguet, de la pivoine, des bulbes qui fleurissent à la saison printanière sans oublier les lys (sauf le lys de la Madone). Plantez des arbustes à fleurs comme par exemple le forsythia, le lilas, l'abélia ou bien encore le lilas de Perse. Effectuez les divisions des souches des plantes vivaces. Arrachez les bulbes qui craignent le froid comme par exemple les cannas, les glaïeuls, les dahlias et les bégonias. Laissez les rhizomes et les bulbes sécher à l'ombre pendant 48 heures en les retournant de temps en temps. Ensuite, stockez-les dans des boites hermétiques ou bien dans des boites à chaussures que vous devez installer dans un local sec et hors gel. Au jardin potager Plantez du chou-fleur de printemps. Protégez vos artichauts avant l'arrivée des premières gelées en réduisant un peu le feuillage. Liez-les et effectuez un buttage sur une vingtaine de centimètres. Si vous habitez une région froide, paillez-les. mardi 17 octobre Jour feuilles

Les endives en caissette entreposées en cave Au jardin potager Plantez des choux cabus. Semez des engrais verts comme par exemple du seigle, de la phacélie ou de la vesce sur les emplacements libres de votre jardin potager. Commencez à préparer vos endives que vous avez dû arracher il y a quelques jours. Pour ce faire, choisissez les plus belles. Raccourcissez-les à une vingtaine de centimètres et ne laissez que quelques feuilles au dessus du collet. Ensuite placez-les à la verticale dans une caissette remplie d'un mélange de terre de jardin et de sable humide à parts égales. Installez tout ce petit monde dans une pièce obscure comme par exemple dans une cave. Protégez l'estragon surtout si vous habitez dans une région froide. Rabattez son feuillage et couvrez-le de frondes de fougère. Si vous avez des choux-raves arrivés à maturité, récoltez-les. Les autres pourront attendre jusqu'au début du mois de novembre. Supprimez le feuillage et les racines et entreposez-les en cave dans du sable pour une bonne conservation. Faites blanchir le cardon. Pour cela, supprimez le feuillage abimé. Liez-le et ensuite entourez-le de plusieurs feuilles de papier journal. De cette manière, vous pourrez commencer à effectuer une récole d'ici 15 jours à 3 semaines. mercredi 18 octobre Jour feuilles

Si vous habitez une région froide, protégez l'estragon Au jardin potager Plantez des choux cabus. Semez des engrais verts comme par exemple du seigle, de la phacélie ou de la vesce sur les emplacements libres de votre jardin potager. Commencez à préparer vos endives que vous avez dû arracher il y a quelques jours. Pour ce faire, choisissez les plus belles. Raccourcissez-les à une vingtaine de centimètres et ne laissez que quelques feuilles au dessus du collet. Ensuite placez-les à la verticale dans une caissette remplie d'un mélange de terre de jardin et de sable humide à parts égales. Installez tout ce petit monde dans une pièce obscure comme par exemple dans une cave. Protégez l'estragon surtout si vous habitez dans une région froide. Rabattez son feuillage et couvrez-le de frondes de fougère. Si vous avez des choux-raves arrivés à maturité, récoltez-les. Les autres pourront attendre jusqu'au début du mois de novembre. Supprimez le feuillage et les racines et entreposez-les en cave dans du sable pour une bonne conservation. Faites blanchir le cardon. Pour cela, supprimez le feuillage abimé. Liez-le et ensuite entourez-le de plusieurs feuilles de papier journal. De cette manière, vous pourrez commencer à effectuer une récole d'ici 15 jours à 3 semaines. jeudi 19 octobre Jour fruits

Plantez des arbustes à petits fruits Au verger Continuez de ramasser les feuilles mortes au pied de vos arbres fruitiers ainsi que tous les fruits momifiés. Détruisez tous ces déchets impérativement en les brulant. Effectuez une pulvérisation de purin de prèle sur vos arbres fruitiers en prévention contre la moniliose. Effectuez cette opération par temps doux et sec (surtout sans vent) avec une température de 10° minimum dans la journée. Si dans votre région il y a des risques de gelée, pensez à récolter vos olives. Il est encore possible de planter des arbustes à petits fruits vendus en conteneur. Commencez à effectuer des trous pour vos futures plantations d'arbres fruitiers dans le courant de la saison automnale. Au jardin potager Plantez les derniers fraisiers. Si vous habitez une région douce, semez des petits pois, des fèves et des poids gourmands. vendredi 20 OCTOBRE Jour fruits

Ramassez vos olives avant les premières gelées. Au verger Continuez de ramasser les feuilles mortes au pied de vos arbres fruitiers ainsi que tous les fruits momifiés. Détruisez tous ces déchets impérativement en les brulant. Effectuez une pulvérisation de purin de prèle sur vos arbres fruitiers en prévention contre la moniliose. Effectuez cette opération par temps doux et sec (surtout sans vent) avec une température de 10° minimum dans la journée. Si dans votre région il y a des risques de gelée, pensez à récolter vos olives. Il est encore possible de planter des arbustes à petits fruits vendus en conteneur. Commencez à effectuer des trous pour vos futures plantations d'arbres fruitiers dans le courant de la saison automnale. Au jardin potager Plantez les derniers fraisiers. Si vous habitez une région douce, semez des petits pois, des fèves et des poids gourmands. samedi 21 OCTOBRE

Jour racines

Semez des carottes mi-longues Au jardin potager Semez des carottes mi-longues pour les récolter en primeur à la saison printanière. Pensez à vérifier vos pommes de terre pour voir si elles ont germé. Si c'est le cas, dégermez-les. dimanche 22 octobre Je rappelle que les jours prévus par le calendrier lunaire seront pour que vous ayez une idée des périodes de plantation ou de semis car vous devrez faire face aux variations climatiques (pluie, neige, Etc..). Ceci pour vous dire que vous serez obligé parfois de déroger au calendrier lunaire pour cause de mauvais temps.

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lapsed-lys · 8 days

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April 23rd 2024

Entry #032

Transition

(TW: transition and detransition discussion, Catholic guilt.)

(Note: I'm using feminine pronouns to talk about a trans man who's now detransitioning. Please respect her choice by respecting her current pronouns and gender identity.)

A few days ago, I had a "fight" (more like a friendship crisis, really) with my best friends. Us three are all Roman Catholic (I'm a Lapsed Catholic though), in which two of us are trans men. The topic of being trans in the Church came up, so the cisgender friend reaffirmed that we were mortal sinning for "crossdressing" and "mutilating our body" with hormones. Which, yes, Roman Catholicism, especially the Pope, has been adament on trans people being a menace and generally being abominations. But it's not something that hurt me personally.

My other friend though... She has been detransitioning to not lose her best friend.

She is scared of God and of losing our common friend, whom could be considered her (platonic) soulmate with how close they are. And we made a rule to not ever talk about the topic between the three of us to avoid that friendship crisis again, where she got scared of losing her best friend.

I can't help but feel... so worried. A religion where you can't question rules or exceptions is a cult, isn't it? We were made to follow God of our own free will, not from mindless obedience.

Not that I do not support detransitioners. All of you are welcome on my blog, it's just as important to talk about your experiences, and you deserve to live your true self no matter what paths it takes you to discover who you are. I love you detransitioners.

My worry lately is just... Well, I'm not too worried about myself, I already accepted my stance as a trans man in Roman Catholicism, and I have many opinions backed up ahah. I'm just worried about...

Well, about Roman Catholicism chaining people in fear, like my friend, rather than guide her and deliver her from whichever obstacle restrains her from worshipping God with all inches of her body and mind.

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steveskafte · 7 months

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FAR END OF SUMMER Every time I see an island, I want so much to reach it. From my earliest memories of land surrounded by water – even if it was just a rocky crag in a lake with a couple evergreens – there was something unspeakable that made me feel at home. Fortunately, you can visit this one by a road atop the narrow gravel bar, and follow up the coast through unfenced fields of freely roaming cattle. The northern end of Chéticamp Island is owned by them, cows creating unconcerned obstacles all the way to the end of Island Light Road (or "Du Phare", depending on your map). Enragée Point Lighthouse has stood here now since 1957, a relatively recent concrete addition, replacement for one that burned. We were here until darkness mostly took over, and a cool breeze blew the fluttering sandflies away. The far end of summer comes on like low-lying clouds. Just the right weight to settle my barophilic soul to sleep. September 6, 2023 Chéticamp Island, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5778 of my daily journal.

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ouyander · 9 months

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Quelque 1800 enfants naissent chaque année avec la forme SS de la drépanocytose au Sénégal, a indiqué, vendredi, le docteur Indou Déme, coordonnateur de l’unité de soins ambulatoires de la drépanocytose, tout en regrettant l’absence d’un programme national consacré à cette maladie touchant 10 % de la population du pays. Drépanocytose touche 10 % de la population du pays ’’Au Sénégal, chaque année, 1800 enfants naissent avec la forme SS de la drépanocytose qui nécessite une prise en charge et pourtant nous n’avons pas de programme national pour cette maladie’’, a souligné la pédiatre, Docteur Indou Dème Ly, coordonnateur de l’unité de soins ambulatoires de la drépanocytose de l’hôpital d’enfants Albert Royer de Fann. Abordant la Journée mondiale consacrée à la lutte contre la maladie prévue samedi et dont le thème ’’engagement communautaire dans la prise en charge de la drépanocytose’’, elle a souligné que ’’c’est important que toute la communauté s’engage car la maladie touche 10 % de la population du Sénégal’’. ’’La meilleure stratégie reste la prévention notamment le dépistage précoce qui ne peut se faire que si tout le monde est informé et engagé’’, a estimé Docteur Indou Dème Ly qui intervenait lors de l’atelier de mise à niveau des journalistes sur la drépanocytose. Actuellement, a-t-elle noté, ’’nous accueillons chaque jour 20 à 25 enfants et adolescents dans cette unité de soins et nous avons eu 211 nouveaux cas en 2020’’. ’’Tous les enfants que nous suivons sont au nombre de 3086 enfants âgés de trois mois à 16 ans même nous des jeunes âgés de 20 ans’’, a ajouté la pédiatre. 1800 Enfants naissent chaque année avec la forme SS (Pédiatre) La drépanocytose ’’’est une maladie génétique et héréditaire où l’hémoglobine A est remplacé par un autre anormal nommé S et qui se manifeste avant l’âge de deux ans chez l’enfant par une tuméfaction des membres supérieurs et inférieurs et une coloration jaune des yeux’’, a t-ell expliqué. Pour le spécialiste en hématologie au Centre de Transfusion Sanguine et responsable de la prise en charge de la drépanocytaire des adultes, le professeur Moussa Seck, ’’il y a entre autres signes des douleurs osseuses, des infections répétées, un syndrome thoracique aigu et même des problèmes d’érection chez les hommes pouvant aboutir à l’impuissance sexuelle’’. A lire aussi Mangeons plus de légumineuses également appelées légumes secs20 choses à savoir pour conserver ses fruits et légumes frais plus longtemps ’’Pour le moment, il n y a pas de traitement disponible au Sénégal car la greffe de la moelle épinière n’existe pas encore dans notre pays’’, a-t-il souligné. Selon le journal scientifique ’’The Lancet’’ cité par le coordonnateur de l’unité de soins ambulatoires, Dr Indou Déme Ly, ’’chaque année 300.000 enfants naissent avec la drépanocytose dans le monde et les 2/3 soit 200.000 enfants se trouvent en Afrique Subsaharienne’’. Pour sa part, le professeur Moussa Seck, hématologue a indiqué qu’actuellement au Sénégal aucune étude n’a été faite sur l’espérance de vie des porteurs de cette maladie. Espérance de vie des maladies drépanocytaires au Sénégal ’’Nous n’avons pas encore fait une étude scientifique sur l’espérance de vie des maladies drépanocytaires au Sénégal mais ils ont en moyenne 28,5 ans pour ceux que nous prenons en charge au Centre National de Transfusion Sanguine’’, a-t-il dit. ’’Nous suivons tout de même des patients qui ont plus de 60 ans’’, a-t-il précisé’’. A lire aussi [Dossier] Virilité, virginité, pesanteurs sociales… : la hantise de la nuit de noces La journée d’information sur la drépanocytose est organisée par l’Association sénégalaise de lutte contre la drépanocytose. Pour son président Maguèye Ndiaye, ’’cette maladie est de plus inconnue au Sénégal et la communauté doit être sensibilisée au dépistage précoce pour éviter toutes les complications’’.

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naantokhi · 9 months

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katakaal · 9 months

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belifii · 9 months

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