Tuesday, May 17, 2016



After long years in exile in Uruguay one morning I wake up and I say to myself:__ Let me see what is about Facebook now I have free time.Neither short nor sloth I open the computer. It's raining as usual in the fall of this remote country. My daughter Jennifer helps me in my job.__No So, Papa. You have to do a profile.__ And where I take photos? __ Ask.__ take them of the download folder. The photos are recent ..,And from there I sumerge in the new cyberworld. It is the first to discover Margarita Vallina page, my old and faithful friend who has many followers. I overwhelm me so many new faces in happy poses. From there I still entranced with making friends and reencontered old. Time has passed and has made its ravages on their faces. Likewise I will see me.__ There will be a photo by here when I was younger? __ I tell my daughter.__ No dad. You got to present yourself as you are now a stubborn old man.I do not say anything. One is as it is.A separate generation of their homeland because of a tyrant . Old friends who staged the glory days of our youth rootless exile. Some are happy, they have their families with them. Some do not find their place pining for the old country, the litttle country of Guantanamo.At least I see their faces and their lives made me feel less alone. Ahh, that generation of Pro has disperdigated throut the world.

No comments:

Post a Comment