Monday, November 22, 2010 0:04:57 [paginantes] CIVILIZATION OF TIME - Story
From: Pablo Paniagua
CIVILIZATION WEATHER
Pablo Paniagua
time there is an invention of man, things happen, nothing else. Time includes everything but no matter or substance, is an abstract concept. For this reason I decided to live without him and do not count anymore, or seconds or minutes or hours or days or weeks or months or years or centuries or were ... To watch the sky and stars, the lunar metamorphosis, I would be enough to see the sunrise in the east and set in the West, so, back to my natural essence.
was one day when I got to thinking about these things, all as a result of an act of God. I was walking around town and suddenly there was a blackout. It was night and the streets were dark, under the occasional vehicular luminescence throbbing through the arteries of asphalt. Even that, however, was not what caught my attention, not even the sound of howling alarms with flashing annoyingly breaking all harmony, as on my head, above the tall buildings, I could see a starry sky I surprised with the magnitude of its beauty. Then I asked: "How long had I not stopped to look at the sky like a landscape?" "Years" was the reply.
people now living apart from their origins and no longer look up to heaven to see the stars, no longer know what is to breathe clean air and clear, to live in harmony with nature, its essence, with the immanent that beats in all creation. Today it accounts for all time and is the symbol of the split between humans and their environment. But in the beginning, when he still had not been invented, things happened just because, not being sought for an explanation of events space was normal, and during the day to night and vice versa, seasonal cycles and other planetary systems did not need to be unpacked. What are we now that invented the time? Where do we walk under its influence?
The answer is simple: "The human species, since then, behaves like a plague stop pretending that surrounds him."
"I will not be an accomplice to this savagery and abandon the civilization of the time," he told me , and looking at my left arm I could see him around the wrist a Swiss watch worth about three hundred and fifty euros. I took it off quickly, with the intention of getting rid of your domain, and for a moment thought of giving it away to the first person to go through my side, but then retracted and concluded not to do such harm to others, and ended up throwing it through a culvert. I must admit that at first I was relieved, but then I realized my responsibility and decision to pull the clock is not sufficient to overcome the pernicious influence of the time. Consequently, the next day and trying to be as consistent as possible, I decided to say goodbye to the company where he worked as an executive at a salary of five thousand per month, and left my nice house with garden, fully equipped but with a thirty-year mortgage payable (there was the dream that many want a general lifestyle built under the laws of time). I took the precaution, as expected, to take all my money from the bank, so a literal and definitive hit the finger to all of my previous existence. Many were the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years, who had lived in the perspective and the submission of a fictitious system, something as artificial as the value of all those colored papers to which assigned a number, money as false as the matter of time, a trick to keep pushing man to his fellows. Nobody gives realize this and therefore nobody does anything, and the bleating of all humanity resonates with echoes of his ignorance: Baa, baa, baa, baa, baa ...!
The next step in my plan was to buy a few goats and some chickens, then take direction, with only a few belongings in a backpack went to the mountains north of my city. On one side of the road left the car, but not before setting fire to fifteen thousand and euros that are no longer needed. Overall, I had three years to finish paying points (and values, time and quantity, without any sense), and burst releasing the air the smoke of her huge unpayable debt. Almost me felt like uttering a laugh, but I just hit another literal sleeves cut to the last vestige of my life: a late model BMW is now wrapped in flames. And then I left, between the crack and sparks from burning, when a dirt road I interned with my two goats and my chickens, and the backpack.
I soon arrived, after a while now vague and unmeasurable, to the slopes of a hill where a stream ran zigzagging between rocks, blackberry bushes and other vegetation that do not know, except the oregano and thyme bushes that stretched out there. Large groups of granitic rocks piled, as if they had detached from the top of the mountain, forming a unique landscape at will among the green grass and blue sky unsullied. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the scent of nature, and exhaling through my mouth I knew I went the last seconds of a long extinct. Finally I felt totally free, with two goats and chickens, surrounded by that place would now be my new home. I searched a cave and I soon find, convenient to protect from inclement weather, and I settled there more than happy with my few belongings. Goats tied to a tree, with a few stones, branches and wire mesh, built a pen for chickens.
that day, sitting at the entrance to my cave, on top, I could see the Sun covered the orange world. Then, not long in coming stars, a tiny moon was like a scratch in the sky, while the crickets sang from his hideout in the summer night. I lay down with his back resting on the stone, to see the sky map which sparkled in all its breadth, and I realized that God was there, wrapped in his embrace.
was little it took to get used to the new tasks to my new routine as morning wash in the creek, feed the animals seek food and devote myself to noting with appreciation the nature. I was totally clean, pure as the air we breathe now, watching the sunrise in the morning and hide at night, giving me quite aware also of lunar evolution. Now I could hear the language of nature, the rustle of the breeze and the wind cry, telling me things that were left to intuit, when before my eyes every detail acquired a conclusive meaning, because everything around me was a participant in a shared essence . All this, I concluded, was what I had stolen my ancient civilization, which now assumed my greatest treasure.
And so time passed without time, without further development until late summer appeared a group of boys, all on bikes and bustle of the participants were screaming. I tried to hide so I do not see, but every attempt was useless, as almost reached the door of my refuge and had to lay there with the same cries that they expressed. His reaction was, apart from the insults, throw all kinds of stones (ammunition around only abundant), between the laughs that were granted at the expense of making fun of me. I could only cover my ears and wait for them to leave, and when the sun was about to hide. Then I felt a strange sensation as though I had been devoid of anything substantial, perhaps the quiet, my newly won harmony with the world, and I felt something like fear, a sense of foreboding.
next day when the sun was at its zenith, he returned the group of boys, their bicycles and their cries, but this time in greater numbers. Quick started their despicable strategy of launching, to where I was, a weapon all the rhythm of laughter and insults. I held as I could, launching more than a stone, until I got lucky that the commanding decays. So I used to celebrate the victory wrapped in screaming and running towards them, so that his reaction was to grab the bike and pedaling away in a hurry, leaving behind a cloud of dust. This time I felt the satisfaction of defending what they believed to drive the future subjects and members of the civilization and time, with a smile and enjoyed the sunset and the resurgence of the star. I spent two days
fairly quiet, with the usual routine of milking goats, collecting eggs laid by the chickens, the occasional dig wild tubers, catch grasshoppers for an aperitif, with bathing in the river and shaded romp of a tree, between the singing of the birds and the sound of leaves moved by the breeze, until the distance I saw several vehicles approaching. Quickly ran to my shelter, crouching behind a rock and watching the intruders were becoming closer. They stopped on the landing before starting the slight rise to the hill, about fifty feet away, when they could distinguish the group of children behind a bicycle. The heart is felt light and restlessness possessed me, of just thinking that I was the subject of this issue of recognition. Car down some people, mostly armed with cameras, who were eager to look and walk to where a boy told them. The dilemma was this: to flee or face them. I chose the latter and did not hesitate to climb up a rock to cry out: "Please leave me alone! I just want to live in peace! "And repeated it several times, in a manner not offensive but also with some determination. And the result was that they continued to advance, but instead, I focused the objectives of their cameras and mobile phones, to make a visual record of what to them meant an unusual event. Children's bikes, which now seemed quieter, coupled with the elderly. This time, at least, not be repeated harassment of stones and insults at any time since I felt that my physical could be at risk, despite having the world broke underfoot. I kept repeating my claim until after a while, as they had arrived, they were first adults in the car and giving children pedaled behind.
That afternoon I received the night without seeing the sun set, as the horizon was filled with dark clouds. Later I could not see the night sky, because the thick clouds covered all the stars and the moon will only be charged for leaving a faint, diffuse halo. The concern I was struck to make way for insomnia and a host of negative thoughts, in turn, led me straight to the areas of obsession, fed back into a dynamic itself seeking a way out of no return, like a spiral that wanted to find the infinite. "Nothing would be the same, I thought, as it happened later.
Day by day, and increasingly, everything changed about my relationship with the alienated time and, ultimately, with my new life plan, because every time was an increasing number of intruders and curious that approached the foot of my shelter, all equipped with video cameras and, with the clear intention to ruin my new harmony, something that I interpreted as a struggle against everything that I now represent. Destructive civilization nature, the human killer, did not lose the opportunity to bury any expression contrary to the laws of the time it ruled, to corner like a hunted animal extinction and who dared to rebel against immoral authority of a history full of fratricidal wars. So I refused to go to another place, to flee like a coward, as always, over and over again, same thing happen again. The best thing would be to accept my fate and struggle to maintain my independence from the minions of the time, and give life, if necessary, for my ideals.
Now I know a hero in defense of all species on Earth, the last vestige of a reason lost, when my feet and enthusiastic crowds gathered to see me like a circus attraction. Did not expect the print reporters and television, and I figured as the cover of magazines and news theme and other gatherings designed for an audience "subnormalizada." When I left my shelter, and let me see, exclaimed amazed throats, but if anyone dared get too close to him away shouting and throwing stones. They, in turn, would throw pieces of fruit and peanuts.
One day, I can not now determine with accuracy the date, all my life took the courses of the uncertainty, not being able to free myself entirely from the dominance of that culture time to soak it all and, therefore, returned to take possession of my most precious thoughts, for mood and every act and depended on the struggle in which I was immersed, and so I could not hold when pushed the cameraman of a television program that had the audacity to come to the door of my refuge, which then fell spectacularly to break your neck and die.
Now I'm locked in a cell, charged with manslaughter and other crimes, looking at the bars that separate me from the world, hopelessly counting the seconds, minutes, days, weeks, years, to recover the freedom and always under the inevitable permanence time.
Rights Reserved - Copyright © Pablo Paniagua
http://www.escritorweb.blogspot.com/ virtual
0 comments:
Post a Comment