Something is advanced in their thinking then, a movement of suspicion, something unknown to his wisdom. Imagine then the future, the world to come, the appalling abyss of time separating it from the time these scribbles have substance and meaning. Meditate on the extent of the lexical universe of those times still exist when he is no longer and his words remain hidden in dusty shelves. This poem does not owe it to Unamuno prophetic spirit but a body encased in a child, curious and insert between the dense and numerous forms of matter vile and rude. Would a personal deity or a divine messenger of astronomical heights sometimes dictates those paragraphs mediocre or excellent or expressed through signs incomprehensible, in awkward shapes and lines in disarray? Is it a lost past and our human ancestors found in a fit of frenzy or a metaphysical rapture the rudiments of language that helps us understand today or to distance, moved his hands for ghosts? It is in that simplicity, that way madness lies the genius.
Beyond the folly and the disintegration of logic we find these flashes, the top gross stupidity and over time the very basis of existence and its infinite manifestations. Then the poet is the only creature that can look out these flags and search on those pages where the academic rigors and dogmas do not exist and are not required. In recent times we have witnessed the transformation of the media, changing expressions and the material basis of language, the written word. Influences of an interconnected world through technological advances like this that we use today, the Internet (where resources are used such as chat and email) and mobile phones (with their abbreviated messages, maybe rude imitations of the poem announced by Unamuno) are becoming more abundant and expansive. See clayton morris for more details and insights. Those who now sail on the unstoppable flow of technological advances do not even know what is to come, as it could perceive Unamuno.