Bedtime mode… an illusion, or perhaps not

At 9:30 PM my mobile phone switches on “bedtime mode”. I set it that way… one of my many little illusions, haha… but what I want to show you is how my photo gallery looks on this 11th of February, still unfolding here in Cuba.

What impresses me most about the photos I took today are the thoughts behind each one. Magical, certainly… yet let’s see if I can shed some light on this, because sometimes they are difficult to explain, and that is why I had to jot down a few ideas in my notebook to later give them shape here.

9:33 PM.

Reviewing my day from beginning to end, the timing was perfect from the moment I opened my eyes. I did what I usually do in the mornings, coffee included, leafed through the little book of poems by Ezra Pound and read a bit. Then I scribbled something in that same notebook — a voice in my head dictating what I ought to write. And I simply let myself be carried along.

It went like this:

I nearly let slip the indiscretion of speaking to her.
You know how these dates weigh…
Yet what could she not already know of me, when my mind spins endlessly in her orbit?
No—let me correct myself: in the world I’ve built for us alone.
Every song, every fleeting presence in my days feels like her breath at dawn, like the brush of her lips at my ear, whispering the phrase that steadies me, enfolds me, sustains me:
‘All is well. The path narrows so we may hold each other, skin to skin… once and forever.’

I let the notebook fall beside my bed and hurried a little to get ready to go out cycling. I went to the local telephone office to see if by chance I could find the repairmen responsible for my neighbourhood and tell them that what they supposedly fixed last week had broken again.

When I asked about them, a group of repairmen chatting away cheerfully on a street corner told me they’d already left. Then one of the men looked around, pointed towards one of the cars parked beside the building, and said, ‘No, look — there they are.’

I was glad and went to explain my situation. So, after that, I could have returned home, but I decided to keep pedalling a while longer and at least reach La Lisa, the municipality next to Marianao. I had to stop a few times at scenes that caught my attention and took some photographs, which now you will be able to see in colour.

This was the first. A very relaxed cat in a place selling farm produce and preserves, on whose wall, at the back, one can read “Happy New Year”. 😆

I snapped a picture right there of Avenida 51, the street I’d just come along. Across the way there’s another place, a bigger market with loads more on offer—or at least that’s how I’ve always known it. From where I stood I couldn’t tell if things were the same or had changed. The sign above saying Cuba Vive threw me off a bit, as my thoughts were still caught up, smiling at the cat’s calm pose and the face it made when I pointed my phone camera at it.

I noticed some guys in the back of a truck, sitting on some sacks, and a group of elderly people gathered on the pavement, though I’ve no idea why.

I carried on with my ride and soon had to stop again when I saw a sneaker shop on the right. There were so many pairs that I hopped off my bike, stayed close to it, and asked the shop assistants if I could take some photos. I’m smiling again now, and only the Universe, "my Universe" knows why…

Each bike ride gets posted automatically thanks to Strava2Hive, if I switch on my smartwatch to track the metrics. It’s not instant—the post goes up a few minutes after I add a description in Strava.

Five of Cups, exploring a new route

The other photos I took on this little ride were of La Lisa Bridge, the houses you can see from up there, a selfie I sent my sister when she rang me as I was passing El Pedregal near Avenida 25, and then a shot of one of the buildings at the so‑called Science Hub in our capital. I took that one just before rolling down a slope, loving the wind in my face and catching whiffs of scents—petricor, and even fresh bread baking… I thought to myself that for things like this, and so much more, cycling is simply wonderful.

El Hueco de La Lisa

Pedregal

I covered about 14 km, and when I got home my dog and I managed to have lunch before the power went off. So I cooked without any trouble and without getting my hands black with charcoal. I won’t deny it—food cooked over charcoal always tastes better.

In that post I mentioned the Five of Cups. It’s become a habit: before heading out I shuffle the deck, pick one card without looking, slip it into my pocket, and only check it once I’m back. The Five of Cups isn’t exactly a cheerful card at first glance.

Let’s look at it in the tarot my second cousin María Eugenia gave me last Christmas.

The figure is focused on the three spilled cups—his misfortune—and doesn’t notice the two still standing behind him, offering something truly wonderful, right before sunrise.

In my own situation it’s really hard to keep my mind on the positive (broken phone, no connectivity—serious problems for my livelihood), twelve‑hour blackouts, and an economic and social reality that shows more signs of decline than of solution…

I’ve paced around the house a few times, the rechargeable lamps no longer shining as brightly as they did, it’s 10:24 pm, and I cling to the idea that seeing those cups full is often hard, but never impossible.

1:05 AM

Well, it’s another day already… and I really should get to sleep.