To Carlos Alberto Montaner

Last weekend I suffered one of the lessons that life gives you, one of those demonstrations where your ideas are shown to be naive and wrong; Your claims and hopes often have no place in immeasurable, unchanging and incomprehensible flow of life. Last weekend I experienced one of those moments that show you that nothing is certain and that tomorrow always hides something different.

Last weekend fate, divine intervention, luck or chance taught me once again the fragility of life, the uncertainty of the present and the opacity of the future. Now, as I write this, I have no choice but to think and learn that many Sometimes, more than we would like, the demands of fate are far from the wishes and plans of consciousness.

I have not met in person Carlos Alberto Montaner, I couldn’t find time in my schedule to visit it, or at least I want to see for myself. Now I regret it, now I wonder what I could have done differently, because Carlos, now in the distance of a lifetime, he deserved that visit and much more.

Because, just as I look for consistency in actions politicians and politicians, artists and artists, people and characters; It is necessary that I do the same and devote a few words to it, if only to soothe my own conscience. Because now I have no way to apologize for taking for granted that life will wait for me.

Carlos saw something in those columns from the distance of a fruitful and famous literary career. Mr. Montaner He gave me the opportunity to publish my columns under the Firma Press imprint, he gave me the curious and unfathomable ability to bring my writing to an audience beyond physical boundaries, and for that I can never thank him enough. Because even though it was a futile and irrelevant gesture for a A signature much bigger than a rookie in art, it was the space I needed more than once to discover that the act of putting letters together is, without a doubt, something I find pleasure in. And that’s another thing I’ll never be able to thank you for.

But now I understand, or at least want to believe, that writers live differently. Because physical death, bodily death, is nothing more than an obstacle to be overcome. Writers, like other artists, leave a part of their legacy their own essence according to what they leave behind. The letters, exposed on the white canvas of the leaf, are pieces of the eternal soul. Carlos, as long as your writings continue to be read within the boundaries of the free world, as long as your message continues to resonate in the minds of those who fight for freedom, as long as you are still remembered, you will have space to continue to educate, guide and point out injustices which they are corrupting the free world.

And, these last words that are left to me, I can only rejoice that I could meet with writer like Carlos Alberto Montaner, I want to show my quality, thank you for your help and support and continue to work for a free world. Because life viewed from life itself fails to fulfill the enormous image that a great man can create, life viewed from the immortality of the work it is much bigger, much stronger and closer to reality. Your work is done, Carlos, now it is the task of those who want to educate themselves, to find in your texts teaching.