It's the year 2045 and I exist on Earth as a bacterium. Now I am an extremophile microorganism (from extreme and the Greek word φιλ.α=affect, love, i.e. "lover of -extreme-conditions").
Specifically, I'm a tTardigrade type. I can suspend my metabolic processes and stay almost dead for centuries if necessary to survive a borderline situation. I am also able to live 10 years without water and withstand very high pressures.
Until recently, a life form like mine was not conceivable.
I will leave this planet to live in Europe, Jupiter's moon. It will be the first time after I have been here from the beginning. First of all.
Here I have passed through countless lives, animate and inert. All of them have given me my own point of view, a unique psychic entity. I have also existed as a possibility in the minds of others, as a system of thought, as theory and as action.
When they are finished, I often leave them behind. Others, however, are stored in a mental capsule of the future. These are the ones I don't want to lose, the ones who talk to each other as if they had always known each other. And so it is: Cosmic radiation accumulated for centuries in a pot of mud, tones, flickers and alerts, a long drink that leaves the bottle empty, fail looking for the Ether, a place in Faustine's consciousness, the light escaping from a structural trap, pandemics, text messages, disappointments, traces of blood on her neck, and Regina, the one who thought how firm the ground she was stepping on was. The one who, at night, threw herself into the swimming pools.