GENEALOGY OF #MUSIC

I was born near that great river crossing the desert, under a huge baobab, not far from seashore. The pains of the one who gave me birth lasted but a few minutes. There was plenty of joy and brightness on the eyes of those who saw my birth. As a little boy, I used to play throughout the meadows close to that same river; jumping and running across the woods. I grew a strong, muscular man, so that soon females who looked at me quickly got horny for my body, causing me to give myself naive, soft, hot, stalwart, and tender.
Quickly we formed a horde: I as an only male, surrounded by countless women and so many delights. At first, walking along those flowing river waters, till on a cold morning we arrived at a endless salted sea of high waves. Scattering so many children, boys and girls, all along the seashore, I kept then wandering towards the distant land from which womb the rising suns are born. As nomads, we were attracting many people found along the ways.
One summer morning, suddenly feeling that some aging women no more aroused my desire, I abandoned them. They, however, went on following my footprints on sands By doing this, they were trying to see me, even if from a distance. Such female beings dreamed constantly of my eyes.
Thirsty for life, eager for all kinds of marvels, I kept on searching for new lands, for new landscapes. Our vagrant horde kept on growing more numerous, so much for those who lived beside me, offering themselves to my endless appetites, as for rejected others, who as daydreamers continued to follow us.
I soon exchanged, at an increasing speed, aged women by the youngsters they had begotten. Male and female teens were rapidly seduced by me and became hot, gentle, vigorous lovers.
We made up then two subgroups, always kept separate by a constant distance, that limit from where, in spite of being rejected, they were able to contemplate my eyes and their shine. I had no name at all, as neither anyone of us had. We didn't give names to any kind of beings. Our only language was that of shouting during love and orgies, an nothing else. Some day as the sun was setting, we reached a strange sea, extremely salted. Only stones and rocks didn't float above its waters. It seemed to have no fish. We walked along its shore, eating little animals that we hunted in its rocky surroundings.
At last we arrived at a river's mouth, where some fish were found. There we remained for having to eat and to drink. There I could achieve the highest strength and beauty of a human male. I used to fall in love with young girls as soon as I saw in their eyes the hot and ripe desire, and I also gently embraced lads when their pretty shoulders were enlarged and their thighs brawny. These human beings, generated within my females, loved me enraptured. Several autumns before, the most beautiful of my women had given birth to a boy who soon looked more and more like myself: in his face, in his hair, in his eyes, in his power.
As soon as his first and strong male desire came, he fucked the enchanting female who had given birth to himself. With that same sudden horny, being a brawny male so similar to him, I was desired by the lad too. On the right edge of that river, close to the sea, on which everything floated, amid rocks, took place that meeting of us: he, she, and myself. Naked as we lived. My erection was the most intense since my puberty. We, three together, loved one another, embracing and mixing our bodies, and howling throughout all that hot summer's night.
We would have been able, as two identical males, to go on living side by side, loving together all those females. Who could distinguish between us? What for? This would have been our destiny strong, stalwart men, lovers in perpetual orgies: I, a mature male, he, a hot and gorgeous teenager. We, in spite of being two, would be capable of performing as only one such a delightful life, forever wandering towards that mysterious land from which every morning the sun is born.
Nevertheless, something quite unexpected took place. The possibility of such a strange event arose at one of those delightful nights during which we, both males, and she, our most assiduous partner, were making love as threesome. Perhaps because of having begotten the youngster within her own body, her desire for him suddenly became more intense. She was then able, for the first time, to differentiate between us. Thereafter, she threw against me all of her powerful witchery and gave me a name: "Father".
Having a name, I, Father, wouldn't anymore be taken for him. Our intermingled identities, which had allowed us so many ecstatic moments, would no longer exist. We still tried, amid the rocks of our first meeting, to be so close together as before. There was fun and joy, but it was quite impossible to achieve that simultaneous rhythm that once had driven us three to cry and cry at the same time.
Perplexed, we would watch another spell of hers: she named the climax of her pleasure had right before with me, "the Past". The other high enjoyment just shared with him, she named "the Future". To that feeling of disturbing boredom and frustration in which we three were, a little before sunrise, she gave the name of "Present".
Individualized beings from then on, having names and notions concerning a unidirectional time flow, "Son" and "Father", we hated each other. Hence, I expelled him violently out to the rejected group. She followed him. "Son and Mother", two other names created also by her, repelled and unhappy, were still able to conceive another dimension of time: that of a life which would have been possible, if our bonds hadn't broken up, if our first orgy were still feasible. To this fancied time dimension, absent and intangible, they called "Eternity". The explosive, simultaneous orgasm of us three, impossible to be put in words, they called "God".
Among the rejected, who could survive only for dreaming and fancying my eyes, Son was soon effusively admired and strongly desired. Mother taught to all those folks the witchcraft of names and times.
Once being called the enjoyment with Father "the Past", their condition of rejected, "the Present", the orgasm with Son, "the Future", and the happiness that could have been - but didn't - being "Eternity"; they felt themselves enabled to get away from my eyes.
Such they did decide one autumn afternoon after Son spoke to them about 'God', a joy, an indescribable orgasmic climax, impossible even to put in words its richest details, its so sublime and harmonious threesome rhythm. Therefore, it should only be useless trying to say anything about God's intensity or even about the veracity of His existence. Nonetheless, while trying to do it for his folks, Son happened to create an exquisite magical set of sounds and rhythms, for everybody's wonder. Right then, Son had invented music. The rejected, a group in which more and more names were appearing - bound to all things and sensations - took route towards the setting suns, carrying from me those luxurious days memories, so much as the pains of never being able to see my eyes again. Never, not even through countless generations thereafter, our threesomes have been forgotten, nor the words Mother gave then to our feelings and sensations: Infinity, Beauty, Past, Eternity, God.

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