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The vast and unpopulated beauty of this endless beach unfolds before my eyes as a vision of my battered subconscious, as a reflection of my most hidden desires, my most precious wishes. Like a deceptive mirage, allegorical of my own death.

I walk slowly as my feet sink into the white wet sand, behind me, my footprints form a broken line, which seems to extend to infinity, an overvalued reflection of my legacy.

To the east an extensive sea, of deep and crystalline blue waters, on which the moon is reflected, that ancient and forgotten satellite, which once illuminated the nights of the Earth, a memory of our collective unconscious, of a world we never knew and to which we will never return.

The breeze is blowing gently, shaking my thin hair, bristling my skin, and shaking my light and vaporous garment, an omen of the coming night, which will cover my convulsed mind forever.

An intense chill runs down my back, I feel the eerie anxiety of having left something behind, something that should have accompanied me on this journey, but in reality it is the uneasiness of never seeing again that which I love most. Of losing touch with what was once my life.

In the midst of a renewed sense of peace, I am suddenly overcome by the fear of being part of a forgotten past, which no one pays attention to anymore, which has been lost in the irrationality of time. Then I realize the inevitability of oblivion, the impossibility of falling into its dark domain.

Oblivion is the only thing that makes us equal in time, that makes us equal to the irrational animals, to the rocks, the plants or the worlds themselves, a time will come, in which we will all stop having meaning, we will stop being part of the memory of any being that exists or has existed.

The universe itself will not be able to escape from the jaws of this terrifying demon, which will end up devouring us along with everything around us. Oblivion is the common fate of all that is.

I stop to observe the horizon, decorated with the abrupt forms of a chain of islands among which the ghost of the moon appears to illuminate my already darkened beach, behind it, I see the first stars appear, distant worlds, all, part of my past, an amalgam of skies that have illuminated my nights.

An absurd mixture of star formations, visible from different worlds, unite in a single overwhelming night, illuminated by thousands of tiny points that, like souls, guide me on my path, seem to call me, attract me to them, as if leading me to my destination, where my own soul will be part of that amalgam of luminaries.

My essence becomes energy that escapes from my being, that sublimates and disperses throughout everything, that disintegrates to increase the entropy that will consume reality, pushing it into the claws of impassive oblivion.

Only the information that exists in my particles will endure, scattered throughout all that exists, torn and disintegrated, unrecognizable, but permanent; photons, electrons, protons and neutrons, and their quantum states, will be the only memories of what I was.

I will continue to exist, until I become part of oblivion itself, until the information that I am today becomes part of a homogeneous oblivion. When everything, including time itself, comes to an end.


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