London (Everything is illuminated)

I am the laziest blogger in the world. I haven't even looked at my ‘Franky goes to’ page since leaving Perth, since that sad and hesitant day I pulled in my anchor. Today my doubt and terror has transformed into a revistalising burst of freedom. It seems that I only knew 20% of myself in that sleepy little city.

In London, my life is no longer sedated by fear; fear of judgment, fear of oneself. In Perth, I had been living under the illusion of autonomy, individualism and contentment. Now, it is abundantly clear that my days (my ‘self’) were clouded by work, consumerism and inadequacy. It might sound like a hopeless cliché, but in London, I am free to be me. (“I’m not afraid anymore!”) I’m reading, singing, laughing, playing, and living more than I ever have.

Although I’m looking forward to returning to Australia in September for my Dad’s wedding, part of me is terrified that I’ll be trapped; taken hostage by Perth in all of its insular numbness. Subconsciously, Perth still feels like my life sentence, an invisible mosquito that buzzes incessantly in my ear. As I walk the quiet streets, I will keep my return ticket to London clasped firmly in my hand.