I take photographs, I write poetry, slap-back pieces on civilisation and I'm currently writing my second novel.
We fly home tomorrow, I’m so disappointed because I’ve never loved a city so much before in my life. It’s almost as though every fantasy and dream I could have has been placed inside the fog covered scape of Melbourne. From rooftop cinemas to secluded bars in alley ways I only found by being truly lost, truly free, this city has saved my soul and shown me my favorite season in it’s depth. It’s like a book elegantly bound. I feel that that squealing which pierced my ears for so many years has silenced it’s self in a portrayal of ecstasy. I never want to leave, I never want to see who I was before I arrived, I never want to return. I feel blessed that I will go home and be able to start a new and fascinating life, with a new job and a new apartment and the beautiful suit I purchased yesterday. Hello.