It’s my birthday today. I feel like dancing, like singing really loud. I feel like taking a thousand pictures, like slamming my guitar and remembering all the songs I used to play after school in my grandma’s house.

It feels so good to wake up at the sound of my parents walking into my room… it’s home. Home sweet home, home cold home, my sister listening to electronic music, cheese and fruits in the refrigerator, space to walk around.

Home. Not the streets and the strangers, but the cozy little house in the outskirts of a small South American capital city.

It’s my birthday today, and I feel like not leaving this space, like letting the music invade it until the sun flies over to the other side of the planet, or until jetlag knocks me out.

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