Hari You're not, never was, and yet everything was so real. Sartorius Snaut and spoke with told me they would be no more "visitors" that the "appearances" ceased after Solaris radiate powerful X-rays I wonder who I write this, do you Hari? I'm late twice. Now I have nothing, not even your memory, just this shabby and lonely station on the incomprehensible ocean of Solaris that I'm not leaving, why now. It was a journey in search of knowledge, and the culmination of some research that long ago ceased to interest me was an escape. From the first moment I intend to come to this corner of the Cosmos, from which nobody is responsible, never to return. I wished with all my might escape your memory, of that injury that also ended with my life, yes, I am dead, and my remaining years of life will be spent on Solaris doing what? I do not know, I guess that reading, and without interest, the old volumes of Science Solarística that are saved on dusty library shelves.
At one time, legions of scientists who are passionate about the new discovery, a living planet Solaris. It was found that for many years was looking for life, but not as expected. An ocean of a strange plasma material covering the surface of a distant planet, fumes and whimsical figures experience the ocean of Solaris convinced scientists that it was not something casual, or was the product of blind internal dynamics; had consciousness thinking behind them. Turned fascinating, physicists, biologists, psychologists and specialists of all kinds were quick to understand the strange behavior of Solaris. After decades of frantic investigations, their status is exactly the same as the first day: Solaris has been a total mystery, and will remain so. Why? Nobody knows, maybe Solaris is a phenomenon of autism, or perhaps our intelligence is insufficient to understand their reactions. The truth is that Solarística gradually lost interest, the magnificent station was built was left empty, only three scientists were still occupying forgotten: Guibarian, Snaut and Sartorius. Guibarian end up committing suicide and I came here. In principle to determine the future of the station, but in reality it was an escape, no one would care about me, why hide now.
Hari, why did you? Never thought you said you'd kill and you will not believe it. I did not have the courage to find the answer. Some thought the day I guess I left you, I fear, I came home and found your dead body. Hari ... what stress is useless, I do not know who I write for a dead or for me, a being whose existence has long since ceased to be called life. So I came to this forgotten place, but I should have killed me that day. Snaut not tell me when I arrived, waited to the emergence of my "visitor" as they call it. "Condensation of matter, neutrinos, perhaps. Solaris somehow materializes searches the minds and memories, obsessions, fantasies. They are not real, are the embodiment of aspects of their memory, may eventually develop some awareness derived fictional self, why should not form emotional bonds with visitors. " I still remember the wry smile as I was telling Snaut. Traveled millions of miles to forget, Hari, and found you here, a ghost, and at the same as real time as the last day I saw you alive. All had their visitors, and Sartorius Snaut never told me those were his own, to Guibarian him to death, what dark ghosts populate your mind. They warned me, but I ignored them, how could. For a time pretended that the nightmare will turn into redemption, I wanted to recover what was lost, find another answer other than that I never wanted to admit. I turned to love you, Hari, denying the past, denying my own life. In Solaris you were not vicarious existence of my consciousness, it was I who live in your memory, you Hari possessed as ever possessed a woman, I loved you desperately, without measure, and only you were a ghost, a shadow, a "condensed matter" without their own life. Now you're not, Hari, it was useless, I always knew. Sartorius was right, X-ray radiating Solaris perhaps get an answer, and no visitors. Did you know it? I also knew I knew it was your end, and I consented. I consented. I'm on Solaris, what matters now. My life is as meaningless as having this damn planet that no one ever understood.
(I regret not having found another way to talk about Solaris by Stanislaw Lem putting myself in the shoes of the protagonist Kris Kelvin. At the end of the day this is not a book review bolg and I write what I want, or what I can)
Valencia, Monday 11 December. Let's see ... Overwhelming moisture sticks eager to get the bones and freeze your soul as if it were ghostly appearance (ie, the same as yesterday but with something more than cold, see the party the day before).
a certain Vera PD reappeared, ready to do favors for their friends in the circle of the potato. Just needed a phone and an office, understated whispers turned the tables.
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