I don't feel at home in a house or in a city. I feel at home in moments. Walking through the city in when the sun's about to set and the air is cold but fresh. Riding in an empty bus when it turns corners. Falling asleep on bart, in my favorite seat, to my favorite songs after a night with a friend. Taking a shower and hearing the hum of a fan. Falling asleep with the windows open, as a cool breeze flutters over my face. A flip of my hair as I laugh hysterically with a friend. People watching. Laying carefree on a large expansive lawn that hasn't been cut for weeks, soaking in the sun and reading a good book. Working as my friends fall asleep next to me.
These are the times when I'm at home. No matter where I am, I always come back home.