I don't think I remember what it feels like to look around me and think, "it feels so good to be home, here in this moment, exactly where I belong". I couldn't wait to break away from my tiny hometown and then, at my first opportunity, I did just that. I've been bouncing around for the last ten years, always ignoring that ants-in-my-pants feeling beckoning me to pick up and move again in search of home.
I do have one place, though, where I just need to live. Whenever I visit, I imagine living there. I wonder if I could hack it, think about what it'd be like to shop for groceries there and hop on the BART at that stop.That place is the Oakland/Berkeley area. I was fortunate to visit Sunday and grab lunch at Jupiter Cafe and pop into a coffee shop for an iced mocha before heading home.
I snapped a photo of the poetry board while in line for the bathroom at the coffee shop and I just couldn't help but feel like "this is my home, this is where I belong" even though I live about a hundred miles away right now. A hundred miles is nothing at this point.
What is home to you?
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