First of all: Can you explain to me what this idea is that I’ll tell you to go to hell for an indefinite period? I imagine it’s an encrypted metaphor (I’ve forgotten the code and maybe I’ve lost a bit of my sense of humor) because I refuse to think that you’ve reached a similar conclusion after reading my blog, now I’m worried, I think you’ve inspired me and I will dedicate a post to your email, if you allow me of course, I won’t put your name, clearly, I don’t want you to have problems because of me.
About Antúnez, I know the same as you, that he’s gone a month without eating and is asking for freedom for the political prisoners and that they let a boy out of the punishment cell, they wanted to do an interview for the blog but it wasn’t possible… What an exaggeration! The truth is that you don’t owe me any explanation, if you are afraid or not, this doesn’t matter to me, for example I have a tremendous fear of dogs. As for your ideological outlook (ha ha ha) that is already old, since we’ve known each other we have thought differently and more than once we’ve argued or (to be more honest) I’ve argued with you, and I even remember one time when you scolded me for making a joke about Fifo and the mosquitoes that I don’t remember, but it was very funny.
Now that I want us to talk, I hope you don’t take it wrong what I’m going to say, the first is I don’t give a fig that you’re a Fidelista or communist (the difference from him: you haven’t killed anyone, no one is in prison because of you, you haven’t censored any book, you haven’t repressed or repudiated, so for me everything is OK). But that you live in the news, the truth is it’s because you want to, I have no antenna, now I have a blog, and for many years we have been looking at reality through different eyes, why, I don’t know, but I’m sure of something: the newscaster doesn’t exist and you don’t need to verify it on the Internet or on foreign television and you know it.
Freedom of expression is not a need for Cuban society, it’s a right of every citizen of the world; democracy, I don’t know if it’s a path to a perfect society, but it's at least the possibility that every citizen can, and have the right to, try to build it. To me it’s all the same if I have money or not, I know that to them, to those sick old men with power in whom you have Faith, it matters, however, I not only have no money, but I have no right to have it or even to say that I don’t have it. Is your father a colonel? Mine was too (I think). Since when is Cuba divided into worms and snitches? Who is the intellectual author of the new status? (New is a parable, it’s 50 years old.) Why are you afraid they’ll lock up your family for snitching and I’m afraid of them blackmailing, extorting and threatening mine… who’s to blame for that today, you and me who aren’t even 26-years-old, we exchange this strange correspondence that we can’t make heads or tails of?... Who says that you and I have to hate each other?
For me, I put the group above, below, it should be already, the group on top, retire, they’re too old and have done enough damage to all of us. Why don’t they do it. Why do they lie? Because they are sick with power, because we don’t matter to them, not you, not me, not your father nor mine, not your friends from childhood, nor mine from the dissent, nor the people who don’t care about politics, nor those who die in the raft, nor those who live in the tenements, not the poor, not the rich, not the bosses, not the prostitutes, not the kids nor the old people, no one matters… so that: if we aren’t important to them do us the favor of leaving. Even if someone else comes and can’t fix this chaos either, at least we have hope that another will come and little by little, we will get out of this disgrace that our country has become.
The thing about the cigars, the truth is I don’t try to smash anything in the face of anybody. Nevertheless, in those moments in the MININT he must have had some fantasies about smashing one in mine. I already told you, the hate is theirs and when they leave, there won’t be hatred. No one is going to kill anyone with a machete, because those who shoot right and left are them and the truth is that I believe that for the people here, “Fatherland or Death” makes them sick to their stomachs. Miraculously, among all the bad things our society suffers, a healthy apathy frees it of the stupid need of believing the protagonists of history and the messiahs of the construction of The New Man. Luckily for everyone, ideology is in its death throes.
OK, enough of all that, send me a small photo, less than 100k, behave yourself and navigate by proxy, I have it on good authority that they monitor the Internet closely there.
I love you much, take care, Claudia
PS: When you come I’ll give you a pile of documents about communism, they’re excellent, about Eastern Europe, very serious and historical, I have one on the history of Marxism as a philosophy that is super good, a stack of things that weren’t in ‘Philosophy and Society,” for fun, because they’re nothing to write home about.
This is an excerpt to a version of the song, Epitaph for Vladimir Visotski by Karsmarski Jacek (Polish dissident songwriter), which includes Ciro Diaz in his latest album, The Blue Slug, that I listened to compulsively for at least two months, especially on the street with my mp3 inherited from a friend who now has an I-pod. (Download the lyrics here) (Download the recording and album cover here) The song (in summary, which runs about ten minutes) is about a desperate artist going through the circles of hell in search of an answer or death, and at the end of his journey there is only loneliness and the weight of the supreme power above himself. So I found myself at times catching the bus across Havana at 12 noon in August under the perennial sunshine and with the distressing feeling of not going anywhere, or arriving too late, or going for pleasure ... I feel that I have already arrived at the eighth enclosure (this is the finale of the song) where there is nothing, and I feel useless and empty, and I look at people without faith who walk along the street and who have so much fear that they no longer know they're afraid, and who have seen so many Roundtables and so many news broadcasts that they no longer know what belongs to reality or just to the TV screen. They cannot discern that they no longer believe, but cannot disbelieve either, and just move along past me not going anywhere.