I always will dream of the Stone Corral, there will be a part of my memories and soul that is linked to that piece of land until I die.
I just woke up from another dream, not the most pleasant one, not one I'd should mention in a blog entry but it was a very unpleasant one that I shouldn't but it bring memories of what I left behind.
I've believe that love and cholera are one and the same, you can't eradicate them, because at the end both are illnesses that produce vomit, diarrhea and consume your short intestine on a short term.
Yet, the memories of love and betrayal keep appearing as the Galleons that many centuries ago, attacked and almost destroyed The Corral on several occasions as well as the people itself.
My dream was simple, the words of hate of a familiar kept popping albeit not directly to myself, but the essence of her persona was as salty as the seas that'd surrounded the city since immemorial times.
It was a simple dream, in my old bedroom, the one I shared my brother; my memory from the dream set it on the year 2005, as I could see the bay and smell it even within my tides.
The room was as I always remember it, everything was in his place. Deep in my head anything hasn't changed, deep in my head I know I am lying because being enamored is a crime that can bring you serious repercussions in a city that was frozen in time between modernity and archaic values such as Florentino and Juvenal.
The struggle between those two characters are the struggles between the dream I had; the hate of love or to love hate someone because of who that persons love or if that person decide to love or wait for someone even if it has to wait a life time because of fears.
I could hear their voices as if I spoke with them on the phone yesterday. I could touch them perfectly even if I wasn't there and I was aware.
Not a mere spectator, just someone listening in the middle of a conversation that probably happened a long time ago and my memories just recovered it after many years.