When I came here I was going to close the blog but I did, that because I was still useful in some odd way ... But little, and tonight I erase everything.
Since September he had written a lot about nostalgia, about that of the "nostalgia of being away," was all a poetic at the time, I guess ... Closely linked to the new, to express the new, very subdued to the style, to show my poetry as if getting on a website as you exit the throat out some artsy, artefinuras, what do I know that things do not really seem ...
This is the last entry is going to have this blog, which is not the end of my writings online or anything ... Means public not more here, because it is not the same,
It's just very personally think that a man's personal poetry should be a place of sincere reflection on itself, not an online portfolio or an act of literary dissemination. .. A blog can be that, but it never has been.
I, despite hating the institutions and vertical power structures, much love to my country and my roots, both things that I see are space filling your loved ones and cultural space crimp your soul since in the born, grew up and learned to feel.
That I can not escape and I can not deny, nor want to. As much as I bite the hands still here going to protest and do everything possible for that system desvalidación murderous impunity and continues to operate in the minds of rulers and their lackeys cursed of all time.
But (and back to the beginning):
happens that no longer seems to follow me up little poems improvised on the distance, because over time I started to realize how naive that ... Assume it is a slow process, which passes through more things that if it takes the marraqueta with avocado or not, they are just symptoms of much deeper feelings and deep ... The depth and profundity of these feelings make me feel that this body and line posts are not consistent with what I feel, therefore, does not make sense to continue rising my writings here.
At the time this blog was a space of resistance, where he wrote up every time in the past and mature civilized world wanted me to write this was a waste of time to throw in the towel and not had nothing new to say ... When this happened I opened the blogger, wrote something on it and say, I'm alive.
live here now that far from San Fernando as rustic and heartfelt that I was writing as if by instinct, that Santiago so painfully beautiful that I had written as runaway horse ... I write all day long but, of course, to study scripts, which also makes me write ... Write different things.
write and read and see movies ... When I'm not that I'm listening to music, the counterpoint to this compared to Santiaguina Craving that every moment had to estarme giving encouragement in the darkness no longer be like a positive sum, but that does not remove the deep sense of nostalgia to me da remember the night sky and the sound of the Pacific Ocean, the color of the mountains and the other air.
I'm away from my people and my cultural roots ... I'm writing all day because I want to do professionally, but also happens that I do not forget that if I write is because I have something important to say, is in a script, in an essay, a story, novel or simply a couple of lines in the air.
I will not ever stop writing, and in this case I think it's good to give an end to this blog ... This is because this area is a host of other experiences, other than at the time to which I now live, stop today is respect, for the sake of consistency and respect for my memory.
My next area I hope to do even more intimate and that what is written there is, just, sincere and inside ... If there really was someone who read this blog, I am constantly grateful for the patience, thanks to my friends that during all this time I read it and gave me encouragement, which at the time was gasoline more so today than ever, I promise to fix my problem with accents, some day.
And, when four and twenty-two of February 4 in Cuba, I am here, I put a new video on youtube (although here apenitas load) y. .. we left.
Thanks for reading.
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