Home

What is “home”? Is it place? Is it a space? Is it a state of being? Is it the ability to be home anywhere?

For me,

Home is to laugh spontaneously
Home is to hang my photos and posters
Home is to cook my food
Home is to invite friends to come visit
Home is to walk around wearing only my underwear
Home is to feel sad and cry
Home is to love and sing out loud with all the air in my lungs
Home is to fart with no embarrassment
Home is to laugh until my stomach hurts
Home is to dance crazy at any music
Home is rest when I am tired
Home is to fall asleep on the sofa at anytime in the day
Home is to leave the dishes unwashed for as long as I feel like washing them
Home is to shout when I am angry, even if there is apparently no reasonable reason
Home is to walk bare feet all day long
Home is to listen to the same song on and on and on
Home is to smell that smell and remember home
Home is to say I need a hug
Home is to be in lovely arms
Home is to leave home and know it is always there
Home is to shelter myself when I am feeling fragile
Home is to I set down my “Guia de Oxala”
Home is to have fresh flowers in the rooms
Home is to get back late in the night and eat sitting on the kitchen floor
Home is to make any reason a good reason to organize a party
Home is to move all the furniture when I feel like it
Home is to get lifts with strangers
Home is to improvise music
Home is to wear accordingly to how I am feeling
Home is to meet people on the street and invite them in

Home is Me
Home is You

Home is to Be… in a place, in a state of mind, in a room, in a country, in a bad mood, in a party, in a car, in Love…

Home is to Be in the world and the world to be in me

Valentine