36 THE MEAT IS IMPENETRABLIER THAT THE STONE

36 THE MEAT IS IMPENETRABLIER THAT THE STONE

A trillion of trillions of years later …

The Emissary and I walk without pause. Soon I understood that my end(final) would not be this day and got better. Though the Emissary took really(exactly) my end(purpose) as a mission - without me saberlo-, it would not be this day not in this place. A doubt made it postpone the execution of his(her,your) orders.
We were initiating this way a long trip.
Ah, the trip! Our invisible steps form(train) now an invisible necklace of recollections, an ethereal collection that it(he,she) threads in the nights and days, a collection of times, dark and different clear some, which only remain joined in my heart.
The solitary planet was appearing and disappearing this way, while it(he) was dragged me by the Emissary in a trip towards do not be where. Probably already it was a time of which I was returning my conscience to the Thecnetos. Already it(he,she) might not travel to the trasnmundo.
Only occasionally, we were doing stops. He was not speaking, but I believe(create) not for muteness, but for the same reason for which we do not speak to him(her) to the stones of the way. I was listening to his(her,your) sandy and strong breathing, that towards mas rapid if we were nearby, and it was not suspected that the end(purpose) of this tour was still very distant.
A lot of time later, already sure of surviving the kidnapping, I started with difficulty surmising on the intentions of this trip, doing hypothesis and more hypothesis on his(her,your) nature, while the Emissary, kept silent, it(he,she) was advancing. In some weeks of walking we go out of the sphere that I already had explored. Beyond(farther), far, I looked at the equally dispersed planet and always in him(it), the extension, the dry landscapes, the rust, the empty avenues, the architectural incomplete projects being ruined in microscopic fall, the drought and the emptiness. In outside of the city of ruins, rocky clumps, they started substituting the ruins, but now it(he,she) had a new landscape opposite to my eyes: the Emissary, who also was observing these landscapes.
His(Her,Your) to walk tenacious age, but exhausted; strong but lacking in passion. There was an urgency and also a hopelessness in his(her,your) labor - that was maybe endless - and in him(it) I dared to see my own(proper) one, though more primitive(original) to feel.
He was not an impostor, since at some time I thought, but a slave of the Thecnetos and felt - in spite of sorrow(despite) of his(her,your) hermetic silence - how his(your) atoms that were escaping, particles of longings and of emptinesses that prompt were reaching me and were allowing me at least precariously, to understand(include) it by it. After a few months it(he,she) eliminated the first distaste towards him(it) and replaced a shy curiosity. My attention centred firstly on his(her,your) corporal perfection. His(her,your) beauty might be described like concentradísima and simultaneously simply. His(her,your) beauty not tape-worm you divide(depart) not even internal structure. It seemed that every proportion of the Emissary was absolutely necessary. Nothing in his(her,your) forms would be a quota or chancly. These necessary forms were coming from his(her,your) relation with the supreme perfection: The Thecnetos.
This was like that because it(he,she) was relating it to that of the Thecnetos, and was speaking in an indirect way about him(it). This inexplicable beauty was at the time the only(unique) way to the Thecnetos, the only(unique) form of " knowing of him(it) " indirectly. So(then,since) if not, for what certain geometry in the Emissary was it(he,she) producing this intense sensation of aesthetic taste and others not?
Because of it about her(it) he(she) was thinking constant without finding response. But soon it(he,she) eliminated in my mind the motivation of understanding the Thecnetos across the beauty of the Emissary, since the sensation of spatial perfection was seeming to be everything and not to contain anything in his(her,your) bottom(fund), not for to be hollow of content, but for being she(it), the same content. The beauty of the Emissary was the same beauty, end(final) and without justifications. And in spite of his(her,your) uselessness, it(he,she) was not stopping having my attention in her(it).
It(He,She) had to forget my dream of the trasmundo, but the duty does not force the things to be. On having fallen down the night, the Emissary was falling down in the dream. Lazy and enormous it(he,she) could observe it very held up and safely. I noticed that, on having slept, the Emissary was seemingly taken, visited by immaterial creatures; his(her,your) body was like a strength(fortress) besieged by former enemies, was doing time died, but implacable now as spectra. His(her,your) body was crossed by these disturbing recollections, his(her,your) mouth sometimes was stuttering to the silence that was surrounding his(her) incomprehensible words - thing that made me understand(include) that it(he) was not mute. His(her,your) face was twisting in gestures and sometimes it(he,she) was getting up violently as if he(she) was suffocating in the dream and though his(her,your) beautiful corporalidad already was in this world to the awakening, his(her,your) mind was remaining a few seconds in other one. His(her,your) eyes were pointing at the night sky and in this emptiness - that was repeating itself in his(her,your) black retinas - it seemed that still(yet) it(he,she) could see the forms of his(her,your) recollections.
His(Her,Your) Emissary's obligation was occupying him every hour of wake and I noticed, in the skill and nonchalance of his(her,your) movements, that his(her,your) labor was stereotyped and maybe hated. I did not know it still(yet), but I would remove to a precise place, a destination(destiny) that waits for me at the end of this statement. I was looking at it amazed and he(it) was looking at myself with the same neutrality with the one that looks at the rubbles or at the clouds, but always with a tenuous inconvenience. We were walking sheltered in our mutual lonelinesses, but actually(indeed) only I was alone; he was communicating with the ubiquitous Thecnetos. Sometimes, a slightly curious look of the Emissary to my simplicity, was interrupted by a blush in his(her,your) frozen skin(leather).
Of all the spectacles at that it(he,she) looks the man, the most enigmatic is undoubtedly the same man, I thought, while it(he,she) was looking at the Emissary.
Though it(he) is improper to use the same word "man" for two beings as different as he(it) and I.
It(He,She) saw his(her,your) steps as lost in a labyrinth, but it(he,she) knew that it(he,she) was not adrift(aimlessly) his(her,your) to cover, not that it was a mistake the delivery of the letters. They were deliberate operations. The intelligence of the Thecnetos had determined it or was the solitary project of this omnipotent but bored man? Behind the letters the Emissary was and behind M and L and his(her,your) stranger trasmundo of freedom, or behind there was the Thecnetos and the former humanity who did to the world and then it(he,she) lost it. There were more prominent figures of this series or this one was finishing only in the Emissary?
Is here the penultimate letter that came to me and that I did not read immediately:
M. Dear John letter.
My love for you is a tree to which they start falling(falling due) the leaves(sheets).
Now it(he,she) continues alive(vivacious), enclosed growing slowly, so(then) only a few minutes have happened(passed), maybe already an hour, since you said to me that you cannot tangle your heart with mine.
Nevertheless, how the things are delayed in dying, how they want as stubborn children to persist in the same form.
I auscultate and am there, intact and perfect as a flower newly cut, the happiness that is to be to your side, my conviction of forgetting completely the world and to devote myself to look only at your eyes.
This dead love insists, as a blind bird;
I sit(feel) his(her,your) flutter and his(her,your) blows in the darkness of my heart.
Still(Yet) he(she) will persist in the next days giving his(her,your) last flowers, cooling down in the cold Sun of your beauty.
Still(Yet) it(he,she) will receive some nest and some little bird will see the light under his(her,your) care.
From my tired(tiring) wood I sit(feel) the distant and humid clouds, increasingly far.
The evenings that were ours today they start being spent(passed), and enclosed this night that I write already it is spent(passed).
Good what is to be in this past, that today only you are and only I am, owners of this fresh and sad night and that this intimacy of sharing this minute is the precarious one we.
Any tree is blind and nevertheless it(he,she) stretches with all his(her,your) forces towards the light that it(he,she) will never see.
Mine grew so much that one will delay in dying very much, though you have said to me (it is difficult to me to write it) that already you do not love me. I cannot see the future, only I know that it(he,she) must not be equal of beautiful that the latter night with you.
Good what that only a few minutes have spent(passed), that still(yet) I can say to you without pain that I love you, that still(yet) it(he,she) makes me happy to love yourself.
L.
M, L and his(her,your) incomprehensible words again. Surrounded with this another world for that I so much longed and that now was getting blurred of my hope, as a cloud dying, little by little, in the late afternoon. Did the world of M existed really and L? Was it(he,she) in some another side of the planet? Or was another universe, closed and foreign, the fact that these ambiguous prominent figures were dwelling? Probably M and L were main, and I was in age of going on to a top condition(state). Probably this test(essay) of curiosity was a step of ripeness, a metamorphosis; maybe I would be a voice of the eternal voices of the Thecnetos.
But maybe out certain that the Emissary was an impostor and the perverse one, that the past and the Thecnetos were lies and that he(it) had glided to enclose me in a mistake about which he(she) was thinking to bury myself I live. The Emissary would entertain(delay) this way his(her,your) solitary immortality, in an indolent and boring cruelty.
Walking after him(it), in the slow trips, he(she) was daydreaming still(yet) in fleeing of the kidnapping and travelling to these free regions of the Thecnetos. Terrible ideas were crossing me:
The intelligence of the Thecnetos existed, yes, but the Emissary has invented to M and to L! I them have supposed, but only for the letters that he writes, rather, that he(it) forges. And why does it(he,she) forge them? Sometimes, in the orange evenings in which we were detaining, it(he,she) was looking at the completely covered(overcast) Emissary of powder and in his(her,your) eyes crossed of reflections(reflexes), was sensing beforehand a supernatural and malignant sheen.
He(It) was taking sometimes very long or tangled(complicated) routes. With the time, I understood that it(he,she) was eluding this way to cross certain zones, for which the way would be more short. What would be in those places? Perhaps might some secret on the Thecnetos that I did not have to know reveal there?
This theory was actually(indeed) very stupid. What transcendency might be in what it(he,she) knew or not I, in view of the level of impotence of the human current beings?
It(He,She) might be that they were growing there other forms of life, maybe rebels to the exercises(fiscal years) of the Thecnetos. Probably human life; but in any case, I knew that I would not reach to me this hypothetical freedom. Never.
Now I will do a confidence to them, probably dangerous: I have made sure that the Thecnetos does not saturate really the whole world, which there are zones where his(her,your) extensions have died and for hundreds of years it(he,she) vacates of them. It can be a court, some chunk of the desert, the last floors(flats) of certain buildings. I know that it(he) is not sure to dwell in these dead points liberated to the dangerous random. Also I know that in the powder that gets up up to the high atmosphere, the control of the Thecnetos comes to his(her,your) end(purpose); I know that the endless emptiness that there it(he,she) begins is indifferent to his(her,your) domain(control).
The Emissary sometimes was indicating a course to myself in order that I should cross it only and then was staying away per days. To put in touch with the intelligence of the Thecnetos privately or maybe did he(it) preferred supporting a distant and impersonal control?
I was enjoying these solitary sections, free of my abductor, who was taking me up to whom it(he,she) knows where, or to whom it(he,she) knows what. Walking in the calmed semidarkness, it(he,she) was walking closing the eyes and my heart was coming loose of his(her,your) dreads. It was the possession of the wind, of the freshness ... what it(he,she) weighs anchor!, delicate and thin what was this flavor in the distant and torn into pieces city!

And nevertheless, some of these withdrawals of the Emissary filled me with a rare(strange) restlessness; it(he,she) was starting feeling that something was not fitting when he(it) was not. The roundness of the reality did not seem to be complete. But, why?
The restlessness for his(her,your) return disconcerted me some evenings.