It occurs, sometimes, this feeling of being in the right spot. Then someone says or does something that upsets the perceived balance of things, and the moment evaporates. For only a moment it was. And it begs the question; can belonging in a place be part of an anarchist life? Resisting to go with the flow of this society, contradicting hierarchical relationships, refusing to take part in cliches. Not exactly characteristics that go well with the seemingly effortless fitting in that this age of selfies advertises. Feeling estranged, sensing a distance with your surroundings is recurrent. And at times so chronic that leaving becomes a first, necessary step to being present again somewhere (else). But mostly one holds on to a place because besides all that repulses there is still more that attracts. Then the art is to not smother its contradictions in indifference or to smooth them out in illusions of unity, but to turn them in open confrontation based on the proposal for a different, liberated life. And maybe it is in these subversive relationships, that one can find a place.