These days I feel like a ghost. Not tragically, its just the first word that comes to mind. I feel myself move through this environment, but not touch it. Partly, I think, it is because I am not invested here. The things that I do touch are ungrounded, like me. The improvements made on the house are temporary gains. It will probably be evicted and destroyed before the year is out. The people I have become close to have left or will be gone soon. They are from all over the world, and most of them have a lot more of being all over the world until they settle down for any length of time. Another reason I feel this way is because my footprint has become so light. Living here, like this, I have come to realize how minimal my need really are. This has been great. An absolutely necessary education I should have gotten when I was thirteen. It is strange to transition into having almost no income and no expenses: Everything I use to meet my needs are things that people have decided have no more use. Again I am a ghost haunting an old house, that last residents long dead. All of my food has sat on a grocery store shelf, passed by but for some reason never picked up until it was thrown out. My clothes are castoffs. Somebody bought and wore them until one day when they didn't make the cut. Everything around me has already had a life. Every day I spend hours gliding through this city on my bike, with my eyes open and my mouth shut, passing through overwhelming histories and a bright busy present. A present that is soon not to include me. It is a hallow feeling to think that one day soon I will walk down the stairs into the underground to catch the metro to the station, and it won't be until I am have left Barcelona that the train will come out of its tunnel.