Walking through Havana having breakfast with diamonds, I went to look for what exactly I had to manage among the fragrances of the street, shy, light, cautious, so as not to blow up a bottle with a candle in the face of a policeman of those who are stealing years of their lives from young people who only want a country with democracy. I breathed, after having a coffee in front of the sea, and I decided to simply feel the post-apocalyptic hymen of Cuban women and their siren songs. I stopped to observe: in another dimension of time, I think, then, on a balcony with a first-class plane scenery with German whiskey, a michelada, two pieces of roast meat; a fragment of semen (street art about the elegant, bourgeois and needy city that is falling apart, despite the neoliberal architectural base that sustains it). And breathe relieved, knowing that in at some point everything continues to manifest. Down with communism, down with the Cuban dictatorship, freedom for political prisoners
Caminando entre la Habana desayunado con diamantes fui a buscar lo que exactamente debia gestionar entre fragancias de la calle, tímido, leve, precavido, para no explotarle en la cara una botella con candela a un policía de estos que andan robandole años de sus vidas a jovenes que solo desean un pais con democracia. Respire, luego de tomarme un cafe frente al mar, y decidí simplemente sentir el himen posapocaliptico de las cubanas y sus cantos de sirenas. Me detuve a observar: en otra dimension del tiempo, creo, luego, en un balcon con escenografia de avion de primera clase con whisky alemán, una michelada, dos trozos de carne asada; un fragmento de semen(arte callejero sobre la elegante, burguesa y necesitada ciudad que se cae a pedazos, a pesar de la neoliberal base arquitectónica que la sostiene). Y respire aliviado, de saber que en algun punto todo sigue manifestándose. Abajo el comunismo, abajo la dictadura cubana, libertad para los presos políticos
