those days in cuba

I have come to remember,
even when the times might not be right,
(but who determines when the time comes?)
those days in Cuba- rainy warm days.
When I met great minds in La Havana,
the poets of sand fresh in their thoughts,
with everlasting ideas:
love and family
friends and music
revolution and ideas
but all those
with a responsibility of being part of it.
The houses were simple and the paint cracked
on every wall,
coffee had lots of sugar
to keep you through the morning hours,
and the poetry all around the place,
hanging from the acacias,
breaking the pavement
like the roots of the trees,
melting on the stone walls,
beaming with strength.
I wished I could feel that way whenever I visited another place.
But I haven't.

should I stay or should I go

Ahora que empiezo a considerar la utilidad de este blog, y viene la pregunta necesaria, debo dejar este espacio a la gente con mas creatividad, menos bits en el ciberespacio, menos marañas en la red...

BUT I started listening to Trent Reznor again and decided its time to continue on this channel for indefinite time.
Even if time goes by faster than I can follow these days, and I seem to not start all I wanted to start- let me advance some thanks to some sunshine girl, that makes my day when I get to read her last posts: my absent- but present friend, distance is so relative, when I hear you fulfill your dreams, you cumble mine.