I dreamt about my dead Spanish comrades had risen up and were moving silently above the area. I suppose these were nightmares, and I must have been more asleep than awake, or just dumbfounded by fatigue. Anyway, I am scared that Podemos- the New stalinist party in Spain will take over- I am afraid of a new Spanish civil war. Anyway, the nightmare was strange and horrible. The pattern was always the same. The dead got up slowly out of their waterlogged craters or off the mud and, with stooped shoulders and dragging feet, wandered around aimlessly, their lips moving as thought trying to tell me something. I struggled to hear what they were saying. They seemed agonized by pain and despair. I felt they asking for my help. The most horrible thing was that I felt unable to aid them.
At that point I inavairably became wide awake and felt sick and half crazed by the horror of my dream. I would gaze out intently to see if the silent figures were still there, but saw nothing. The raing began to slacken and I got troubles to breathe easyly. I guess I have been working too much. I suppose my body is telling me it`s time to stop. it`s time for peace. It`t time to unwind but Spain is in great danger and I don`t know what I have to do in order to save the maid. Will we ended up killing each other again? I am puzzled by my own thougts. i am certain that someboy shed the first blood, there will be no way of stopping us. I am quite sad in a black as midnight in a moonless night. Tonight I can write the saddest lines like Pablo Neruda as a warning but, who cares? Nobody would listen.
The night is gloomy and my soul in despair. Such agony of spirit and I am in the depeest fit. How did I manufacture such a torment for myself? I should forget about the nightmare and silent nights ahead before the tempest strikes and leaves us with nothing but blood and more pain. Nobody cares.
Sergio Calle Llorens