I won't leave here unless a miracle happens, and us old guerrillers neither have the time nor the courage to cling to new myths. It's already hard enough to take care of the graves of those we've lost. Deep down, Ali, my problem is that I’m afraid of dying naked. For years, like many, I searched for the bullet that bore my name among the marks of the grooves. It was the key to a dignified death, wearing the simple garment of believing in something. But it’s all over, faith has faded, the dogma was nothing more than a childish anecdote, and I was left naked, stripped of the greatest perspective that has marked people like me: to die for something called revolution, something akin to the paradise that awaits the Islamic pasdaran, but with salsa music.
(A name from a bullfighter)
Luis Sepulveda 4 October 1949-16 April 2020