Key West, Hemingway, and Sunsets

We finally arrived in Key West Florida around eight o’clock on a hot Tuesday evening in mid-June. The trip from Philadelphia was annoying and too damn long, but sure worth it. It took us a car ride, two shuttles, two airplanes, a rental, and a total of eighteen hours to get there. I am an inspired young writer trying to make it in a corporate world and my six-month happily pregnant wife, we’ve left for a little get-away right before the pregnancy, and traveling becomes too much of a burden for both of us. 

We’ve decided on Florida because it was a relatively affordable trip with an excellent travel package for a week and, of course, because of Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway resided in Key West from 1931 to 1939. His house is a historic landmark and a museum, and it’s the primary destination for so many people coming down here, to the edge of the world, the far end of the Florida Keys. We stayed at Havana Cabana, a cool Cuban style hotel-resort located just about ten miles away from Hemingway’s house. We stayed there for the next five days, and this would be our last trip with only two of us before the baby arrives. 

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Poem: Into the nowhere

We are marching into the nowhere,
Everything is black and white and anything in between.
The masks on our faces cover our souls.
They cover our minds and intentions.

We all pretend that we care but we don’t.
We support the system that failed us.
We represent somebody we don’t know.
We say things we don’t really mean.

We make heroes out of thieves.
We turn thieves into our heroes.
The law is something that doesn’t work,
Something was written and forgotten
A long time ago.

We barricade our future and our minds,
We are strong or at least we feel like we are,
We demand and we want and we will die for a change,
We need to have things differently
But we never change ourselves.

The truth does hurt and it hurts a lot, just like love hurts.
Our fragile minds are so occupied and so worried
That we don’t even think about it.
We move forward, we try to persevere,
But fail, as the system fails, as the blue sky fails.

With faces angry, moving against the establishments
With our fists to the sky and the voices screaming 
For a change, for freedom, for something.
We hope that the change will come 
And we hope that this march is the last one.