I am in the underground in Madrid. Around me everybody talks and talks, about a thousand things that I can neither hear not understand. There are not too many people here…. Although there are more than enough. The noise they make in the background allows me to find that space inside of me. It’s as if the echo creates a space between then and me, and in that space, I disappear into a sort blank oblivion where there is nothing but silence. It’s a strange fact, but one that I have just learnt to accept. The louder the place, the more inwardly I go. It’s a good balance one would suppose. So here I sit… On my own… In this country called Spain, in this town called Madrid, on my way to the airport… Finding an inner space where I can just breathe and talk to myself, for the first time in two days. This loudness, this loneliness… It is more than welcomed. I immediately start imagining stories, narratives and dialogues… My mind jumps into my soul and they start talking and talking… I like it that way. My fingers type. Rapidly. But inside me there is nothing…. There is just that absolute stillness that I have grown to love. I linger there. The stations come and go, and the underground stops and pulls away over and over again… People come in. People go out. The same echo of loud voices in the background. The same space inside of me. Words. Emotions. Feelings. Stories. Memories. Dreams. I linger there… For as long as I can. I linger and linger….. Then something clicks inside of me, and I look up. My stop is here. I shake my soul back to sleep, get up and go on my way. As it always has to be… Life calls. But that place… I know it is always there.