When something rots, those who rot it proliferate. Then those who can transmute and go “flying” somewhere else. Where they will repeat the process. From the rotten, life will be reborn.
Is there any news? Perhaps that now those who rot are also beings with metaphysical abstractions? Perhaps they are also beings with empirical reason?.
And the greater the rot, the greater the temperature and the greater the division between the metaphysical and the empirical. Hurrying, between the religious and the atheist. And there also the temperature and the rot rises many degrees in the friction of that opposition.
Some will think of fleeing to paradises with their gods, others to planets to colonize.
And me?. Well, I don't know. I am a mystery greater than all that.
It doesn't exist. It's not even a mystery, it doesn't exist.
And Ginés?. Ginés does. In this case, one for each observer and for each instant of each observer, and for each observation and for each instant of observation, whoever or whatever observes or thinks or feels it or who or what observes or thinks or feels it. Or a creature of God for believing humans.
But I don't exist.
And what would I do for La Graciosa.
Well, try to ensure that it is not a vehicle for rot, that life in its sea, in its air and on its land continues with the rhythms that God or nature were creating or evolving until the arrival from nature itself or from God, of what rots vertiginously.
Maintaining that which rots so quickly, in a relationship of temporal sequences towards equilibrium, biological or divine with the rest. Neither of the two, on the other hand, ends the dream of going to heaven or other planets. But obviously they will move away the possibility of ending up in hell or on a planet unviable for human life.
This is the opinion of that I that does not exist.
Leave Ginés alone, he is more confused than all of you together. Imagine having to co-create each one of you at the same time and be co-created. With the immense and turbulent wave of feelings and emotions that emerge in the process. Ahhhh the body.
With the added difficulty that a large majority of what we call civilized, does have an I. Like that, already made, finished, immutable. Whether by nature or by God.
The strange thing about the I that does not exist is that at every moment it has time but no space and the next it has space but no time. That's what I mean by not existing.
Spooky, isn't it?.
Have you never felt that you live from hell to heaven and vice versa, or from being outside of nature to being (being) it.
La Graciosa is neither Heaven (paradise) nor nature (the natural).
It is quite more complex and mysterious than all that.
Like you.
But we know that fire burns and that hatred even more. Or we should know it.
We will only get out of this if our fundamental purpose is to help the other. Whether from the solidarity of reason or from divine grace. First the other, the other. After all, they are the ones who co-create us.
Here in La Graciosa practically no one goes to mass anymore. Politics shines through its absolute absence.
And people come in hundreds of thousands paying a lot of money and often very uncomfortably, to see and be for a while on beaches and a territory where there are no hotels or apartments, or beach bars or anything. Just that. Well... and the cool. The fashionable treasure.
In the end, it's my fault, as far as I'm concerned. And it's a good thing that for years, when I began to smell the matter, I stopped or we stopped watching over a beautiful, Manriqueño town. If it were like that. They eat us alive. After all, most of the town, because it is ugly, remains on the sidelines of the views and their consequent tourist visits.
And thank God or nature for the shallow bottom of the Río. If it weren't like that, we would have a minimum of two or three ocean liners a day.
Regarding whether God created nature or whether nature created God, discussing it is more sterile than waiting for political parties to have an idea of how to deal with this. They are just jayos adrift at sea. Before, jayos were seen as very useful, now more and more, they are only seen as garbage. Garbage that the economically powerful do collect to create more fire (more wood, as Groucho would say). In the format of more infrastructures for the sustainability of continuous growth. Perpetual.
Today what really urges them is the growth of the ports of Orzola and Caleta del Sebo. And that the road does not get stuck like in Timanfaya. And that we continue to be their wood.
Ahhh the water. Here today Friday (26) it still doesn't arrive. There are two cisterns at home. One for drinking water, which arrives through a pipe, and another for rain that falls from the sky, that of God or that of nature. They are superimposed. If it is a lot it can be a divine punishment or a natural disaster. The same if it doesn't fall. In any case, it never rains to everyone's liking. (With the drinking water there is more consensus).
We distribute to those who have asked us for it. Which is greater pleasure than drinking. If you're not thirsty. And we are not thirsty because the bottles and jugs of water do continue to arrive. Then we return the plastics to them, which go to Zonzamas. Before there was a desalination plant in La Graciosa. Its water was drinkable. Its fossil energy. Now there could be one with alternative sources of drinking water for everyone.
But the jayos are floating in the sea. And now, to aggravate the problem, we don't even know where they are going to end up, the currents are changing and it seems that most of them drift to the hard right bank. On that shore they grow and come back for everyone again. More dehumanized. Giving the term humanized not so much as the human in itself, but rather the longing for “something”.
Zonzamas beautiful name. And La Graciosa, naive and gentle.
Intertwined, what increases there increases here, what decreases there decreases here.
Then there are the humans in the boats, who also visit us and we don't want them. And they would give anything for this to be happening on their shores.
And then there are those who live in remote places in their worlds without needing any of this. We will go to those, we are already going for them.
To the deepest part of the jungle. The jungle that lives on rot, but on another rot, that of evolution and that of its gods. And between some and others there are those like in La Graciosa with tanks from here to there. But they are other tanks, tanks of fire and hatred.
They say that vision does not work by sending images to the brain that it processes at every moment. Apparently the brain already has the images previously recorded and only takes from the eyes what is new. And renews what it already had with that, updates it.
So the experience of arriving at a beach like Las Conchas and its light (beach with good weather and no dangerous animals) and seeing it without apartments or any infrastructure, must be a very intense experience for the one who experiences it and in general people like to share cool experiences.
But that requires too many trips that are increasing the rot.
Perhaps we should learn that the world is overflowing with those moments and visions around us.
And even more, there is no such thing as “our surroundings”. We are the world, we are created and creators of the world in a common, shared task, in which, if we want, God fits. It's been a long time since I went to Las Conchas. Since I am Las Conchas. And I enjoy meeting each of its visitors, its boats, its bikes and its cars. But I am obliged to remind them that in this way, the creation that we are, the evolution that we are is rotting without adaptable or recyclable renewal for us, humans and so much life that we drag along.
You will allow me to say that. And disappear again.
Ginés would have talked about money, greed, envy, corruption, neglect. And blah blah blaa. But that is not essential. That is only an effect of the rot that is now accelerating. And that of course also affects (is) him.
To me. Said another way.
Beyond this I can no longer speak. I imagine it is my last article. Unless I find space with time or time with space again, common. It has been an immense pleasure to write and feel read. Whatever you felt, take it for granted that I felt it, and for that, infinite thanks.