Ramón Díaz-Marzo
HAVANA, June - I live alone in a cool room in tropical Old Havana. Without
anyone who can contradict my opinions, my home is a government, a nation, an
empire.
The only other beings in my empire are the roaches, the mosquitoes and the
ants. These are my people, and they love me, although sometimes I have to fight
off the mice who come in with terrorist intentions.
In my empire, my only allies are the books, who always obey silently. When
one contradicts me, I lock it up in the bookcase.
In bygone times, I was able to put up with the democracy of love and I
shared my sovereignty with others. But I'm really happier since I discovered
that the greatest pleasure is to be a dictator.
My ants are not even afraid when I walk into the room and step on them. They
are happy with the suffering I have decreed for them.
Of all my subjects, I'm only wary of the mosquitoes. They have short lives,
but while alive, they extract blood in exchange for the information they whisper
in my ears.
Surrounded by my faithful cockroaches, I have achieved absolute power. Every
so often, I step on them too, as inevitably I do with the ants. The difference
is that the roaches do suffer. They are so stupid that they actually come to
love me, but I'm a dictator and love only myself. And, sometimes, even though
they are faithful, I become enraged without motive and I explode them under my
shoe. The sound they make then pleases me.
My only real enemy is the Sun. I fear it because I have never worked; all my
life, I have made a living of talk, the only pleasure and power on which I can
depend to control my insects without having to leave my room.
I don't know if with this brief description of myself I have managed to show
that at home, I'm the boss.
Versión
original en español
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