Patients dance to the music under the golden sun that's about to die. They laugh, cry, and scream, finding themselves nowhere but on a boat. They take the branch as their paddle and use the leaf as their sails. They are the pioneers of the 21st century; they are the Columbus of the 21st century. They watched the sun die and set sail towards the south—an adventure, going nowhere—a journey towards the end of the world.
The doctor said they'll be fine. Indeed, they'll be under the surveillant of the most brilliant doctor, Barry Steinback; indeed, they'll be just fine. He's a genius; learnt from the mighty Floyd himself. He studied for five years in medicine, three years in surgery, two years in cardiology, and one year and three months in neurology. None of them he liked. He was the top student at the medical school, the best out of the best. But he was never a successful man of any kind. He wants revenge, and always wants revenge. On a gloomy night of the Florida summer, he said to himself, if there is anything that the doctor has never cured, it was the madness, the irrational, dangerous, and unreasonable madness.
In the Cuban Bar, he orders a drink, then another. The Cuban Libre unable to set him free, the Daiquiri unable to ease the pain. He felt the heat from the hot August night and soon he saw the musician singing alone with the patient that rowed their boat. He starts to scream; he shouts.
"y'all should be in bed by now! Cuba isn't a land for your kind. Go home now, go home. Y'all are already in a land of strangers. This land will devour your soul, your flesh, and your will. Go home now, please go home. We'll have the drink ready, the dance, the music, we’ll have everything. You all can all indulge yourself, indulge yourself in the unforgivable sins and love. My word is always truthful, and you all know it is. So please, take these away from me, take this madness out of my life. Even if it's only one night, just this one hot summer night."
The music continues the patient care, not the duty of care. They sing with the guitar. Dance with the drum. The heat couldn't get them, nor was the summer night symphony capable of stopping them. They march through the thick forest of South America and sail through the frozen water of Antarctica. They find Russia, then Europe. Like hundreds of years ago, they were enlightened by the king of Spain, dressed like businessmen, and started their journey to seek the treasured far East India. The water eventually dried up, and it's undeath the sea. It's the legacy of the Atlantis, the treasure worthless, and the time priceless. They talked to Jesus and said he should forever bury the land and keep it away from the "Normal." Greed will one day soon destroy humankind as a race. But they didn't notice; it was Jesus himself who lost to greed.
So. In the morning, they set sail again; by then, the doctor had already decided to join them. He laughed with all his heart. He ditched his family and his beloved daughter. He knew it was coming; he knew it from the very beginning of it. When he saw that glowing sun that day on the golden beach, he knew one day it would die. He's mad, or is he? Even today, it remains a mystery. His study shows that he was one day an honorable doctor, a true man. However, the evidence indicates that he was just a patient of the asylum built near the mountain. From up above the hill, through the lens of a telescope, we can all see him dressing up just like a patient banging his head against the wall in the room he himself called. The office. Sometimes Cuban bar.