70 METAMORPHOSES, BEING-FOR-ITSELF TO BEING-IN-ITSELF

70 METAMORPHOSES, BEING-FOR-ITSELF TO BEING-IN-ITSELF

A trillion of trillions of years later …

When I woke a horrifying sound up it(he,she) was indicating my collapse in the mortal subsoil. Listen to the noise of the strata that were torn into pieces while I it(he,she) was going down. Then strong chirpings and quakes. I felt some motion sicknesses while it(he,she) was descending, so I rested(relied) on the soil while the quake and the sensation of losing weight they were flooding me. I felt jolts and drafts; it will have lasted do not be if several days, but not less one.
He(She) was travelling to the center of the last planet. It was devoured by the artificial thing. The subsoil while deeper it(he) was less dense and more frozen. At the end of the tour my body was not weighing.
I noticed that this center was furthermore(moreover) cold that the surface; everything was done of turns that were opening and shooting as the hollow roots of an artificial vegetable. This structure was becoming like of million fingers that wanted to feel everything, and they were saturating every centimeter of the subsoil. I will be call them tunnels, though actually(indeed) they were the free space between(among) the waste; they were branching out in a dense total network(net) that was shaping the esfericidad of the planet.
I floated between(among) wired up, speechless of being still(yet) without my abductor, more than of being situated there. My facial features and my images only existed while he(it) was looking at me. Now I was a thing without size, color or form. With to run of the hours(o'clock), already in the deep thing, it(he,she) was leaving me to fall down for a frivolous(lewd) decrease.

An infinite sorrow(sentence) flooded me, my members lost gradually his(her,your) forces. He(she) was not dealing what age above or below(above or down,up or below,up or down), any life was escaping of me. He(she) was returning my life to him(her) to the Thecnetos. Already it(he,she) was importing L Neither M nor the transmundo of dreams who had imagined. Soon he(she) would stop being I.
I fell increasingly slowly and intimately to the center of the planet. Towards the same place where one day ignited artificially my life.

Ultimately the fall stopped or became the slowest. I decided to remain still while my vital functions were going out. In this place the men were born, and here they had to die also.

Being just was like to be a disc of an alone side, for what it was natural that he(she) was dying, since only the coherent entities must exist in the nature. Huddled in my sadness, I waited for the death. For lack of gravity he(she) was not feeling my body, and for lack of light it(he,she) did not see it; it was enough not to think not to be completely, and it was clear that already it(he,she) was starting disappearing. But still(yet) he(she) was revising in my mind you form(train) to continue being, as the sad moribund one who pledges in breathing. I thought about the letters without explanation, about the unthinkable Thecnetos, in the dark M and L whom it(he,she) would never know he(she) would not even understand(include). I thought about this another universe that I dreamed and that it(he,she) did not exist in any side; this dreamed one trasmundo to which at some time I wanted to come. And then I stopped thinking. To a few seconds of distance I stopped asking wherefrom all the answers were me. He(she) was stopping being I and feeling that the time was happening(passing).
The delirium made me think about these terms(ends) about the emissary:

A point in the vastness
A frozen cloud extricating itself(himself,herself) in the dawn
Night noises in an empty building
The dreams that remained eternally hanging in a man who dies
They are examples of the thousands of worlds that stop being when not you these


I was going out meticulously turning into nothing; it was stopping being an alive(vivacious) conscience and was returning his(her) insensitive thing; a being in yes the the same, foreign and unable to experience nothing.

Already not at all serious possible or impossible; simply there was turning(becoming) something that was, without knowing what age: a being without any relation with another being. A thing was turning(becoming), and thereby it(he,she) would remain insensitive and apart for the whole eternity.