A few years ago Eusebia wrote me a letter from her house, isolated and a bit away from Toconce , also a remote place far from the rest of the world. I read it "here silence is everything. If you smoke, the sound of the burning tobacco is just what you hear. If you don’t, a monotonous and slow humming sound is the only thing that can be heard, maybe produced by your own ears; or perhaps it is the background noise of the universe, I’m not sure, but I can just say it is the deepest sound one can be aware of. I think it could be nice from you to come." And I went. And I have stayed there ever since, I mean, here. That silence has been a real truth that has helped me escape from the other undeniable reality I left there. Or dissolve it in clear water, which is a more accurate metaphor. In some way or another this loneliness (merely shared with Eusebia), the monotony of the sight and silence, almost complete, have made me stronger and now I think I can go back keeping courage, almost sure of the fact that what I sense now about what the things are, and which are the hierarchies, will help me to return to normality (process I started when I came here) in the relationship I keep with my own existence. This morning I said goodbye to Eusebia.