46 THE MISTAKE, MOTHER OF ALL THE THINGS

46 THE MISTAKE, MOTHER OF ALL THE THINGS

A trillion of trillions of years later …

The beginning of the life went to form(train) the first molecule germinal and on having done this one, his(her,your) first chemical copies, without doing anything more apart from it.
Then it(he,she) began a battle, not between(among) the copies of the molecule germinal but between(among) the different manners of being copied. The protagonist of the universal history of the life always was the reproduction, neither the species(kinds), nor the individuals, nor the genes.
But the multiplication of the molecule germinal was imperfect and that one was the reason of which new versions were appearing, different from his(her,your) mold, some more efficient than others of being copied. This mistake was the reason of his(her,your) later(posterior) evolution. Without this mistake or the conscience or the man they would have appeared. This first war continued; first between(among) molecules, then between(among) cells, later between(among) individuals, groups, species(kinds), planets, galaxies and then the life fought against other forms of the being, with other conscious things arisen in turn from other types of molecules they germinate, in other exotic and dark points of the cosmos. This way, the Emissary and I were fighting also certain anonymous war. We were the most recent, but not final chapter, of a chemical battle that it(he,she) began in the dark and silent thing. And that perhaps also will end finally in the dark and silent thing.

Of this blemish, paradoxically, the so called perfection of the life was born, that of the Thecnetos and that of the Emissary, who should be called then the blemish of the life. The mistake was so(then) actually(indeed) the engine of the life and his(her,your) reason; without her(it) nothing would have happened(passed).
Still(Yet) today it(he,she) advances this river, but already it(he,she) does not fail in be copying thanks to the effective labor of the Thecnetos. Probably because of it the life already is not alive(vivacious).


Everything returns in the nature, but it(he,she) never returns the life. The incalculable multitude of beings created by the molecule germinal and his(her,your) offspring they have died; this way, the persistence of the life should be better(best) dealt as the persistence of the death. Each of us, carefully taken care by the Thecnetos, we will find this destination(destiny) also. If the life is something immortal, we are not the life.
Only the river that us sublies will never stop and will advance without us up to whom it(he,she) knows where.
Certainly, another lost poem I am quiet this evening of the one who knows where:
M: What desteje and it(he,she) splits silently when not these where?
The world moves back and becomes unbalanced like on rocks when not these where! When you do not return.
All the things and sounds cross me and then they leave me
As if I was a station of trains now it(he,she) empties
And the silence that stays is loaded with so many things, which want to make me cry
I hear the ripple of the universe that goes away
As the water between(among) the land
And I remain alone in my same
In this unbearable one my same
That means not to be with you.
In this sad beginning(principle) of being alone
A remote but intimate process, between(among) dream and dream, was making me left, in these final whereabouts of the feeling … L.