How did it come to this? I’m sitting in 32° hot Portugal. It’s September. I’m not on holidays. I live here now. I almost own a piece of this crazy planet. Which is a weird concept in the first place. I never knew that ending up here was a possibility. I never dreamed about this. I didn’t know I was longing for this all this time. I’m used to living in boxes high above the ground. I’m used to moving between boxes. They always only ever were temporary when I longed for steadiness. For a fixed point I can always come back to. A safe space no one can take away from me. It got better once I was in charge. I built nests that felt pretty safe. But what I didn’t think about is that the nest might be solid but the tree it’s build in isn’t. That maybe I don’t belong in a concrete jungle but in an actual one. With more trees than humans. That once the noise around me silences I can hear myself better. And sometimes I wish I wouldn’t, I wish I could turn my own volume down. Because now I know that every home on this planet only ever will be temporary. Because home is elsewhere.