Chronicles From The Future: The amazing story of Paul Amadeus Dienach

I remember that, even when we had long left the Reigen-Swage Institute and we were on our way to the Stella Maris Park to get our linsen and head home, I was still so affected that I was naïve enough to ask Stefan to what extent all that we had seen was authentic.

“How could they be authentic, since we’re talking about an era so far back in time?” He said, looking at me noticeably puzzled.

He also said—if I understood well and transfer his words correctly—that what some scientists wanted to prove still remains an unfulfilled dream, that is, that some day in the future we, humans, will be able to capture the images that had, in the meantime, run towards infinite space with incredible velocity. Now, however, their technological progress has begun to decline and there are no big visions for new technological advances like there were in the past. From this perspective their culture has begun to wane. He explained to me that of course all this was but a representation, though from a certain era and onwards they were indeed authentic.

We arrived at the villa very late and Stefan, who wasn’t used to such late hours, seemed worn and exhausted.

“You didn’t sleep again tonight because of me…” I told him.

He replied kind-heartedly that he felt fine and that the evening breeze had revived him. Markfor, 27-XII

For eleven days and nights I didn’t write a single word. Hard to find the time and mood for writing or even for a little meditation and undistracted thinking.

Lately, I hardly ever set foot in the house, a big and comfortable new apartment given to us four when we arrived, located in one of the six cities that constitute Markfor. In fact, the men said that it is much bigger than the one Stefan and Hilda had last year in the old city.

I spent our entire first night here outside the city, wandering through the nearby neighbourhoods and looking mainly for monuments and statues with inscriptions. Stefan was persistently trying to convince me to stay for a few hours at home and rest, but I was adamant.

Now every day I walk from morning till noon around this vast state, and then again in the evening, either with Sylvia or by myself. Never before in this new life of mine had they let me go out by myself so often and for so long, but now Jaeger had told them that there was no longer need to prevent me from doing so. In fact he’s staying here as well, in his own little palace, and two days ago I went to see him.

I cannot describe how much joy it gives me to be able to freely go wherever I want, to have the liberty to choose any route and destination and explore this dream-like state on my own terms! I stop and stare for however long I fancy without anyone pressuring me and dragging me around. And trust me, it’s one thing to come here as a guest and another, quite another to stay here permanently for a while. The latter has given me such great self-confidence that I can walk around the streets of Markfor and see thousands of pairs of eyes around me instead of on me and say, “I’m one of you. I belong in your world. I’m a part of your circles. I’m another drop of water in this river!”

They have some odd-looking bicycles here called velos, very different from ours, and almost everyone uses them to get around when they’re not walking.

What I want to say is that, if you are like Stefan and the rest of our group, redeemed from crazy ambitions to climb up the social ladder or be famous, free from any class or individual aspiration to stand out, from any obsession with original, creative spiritual work—which here is the only way to stand out, equivalent to our “success-in-life” notion—then you really feel and are happy and complete. In this funnel of a world, dreams and aspirations, individuality and toils and sacrifices are obliterated.

STATUES FROM THE FUTURE28—XII

(Midday)

Today I wasted all morning at home. Silvia wanted everyone’s opinion and help—including mine—to sort out the thousands of things that had arrived yesterday along with the carpets and the furniture for the new apartment. This distribution was for the whole winter and there wouldn’t be another one. Among all sorts of useful things, there were also quite a few curious things made of synthetic ivory, picked out a few days ago by Sylvia from the Partners’ Exhibition in Monza, and some other little figurines made of something like porcelain, from New Cristiana.

I spent hours staring at the latter today. The material they’re made of looks a lot like our porcelain but the colours, the style and what these little sculptures represent—something I had to ask to find out—were completely different.