It's a cold, rainy Sydney morning. I can hear the wet bitumen sticking to car's tyres as they roll past my window. I don't know why, but for a few years now I've found life in Sydney slightly depressing. It seems too flat somehow - too predictable. I don't know if I like the person I am when I live my Sydney life as much as the person I can be when I'm out of my comfort zone.
Surely this feeling must be something internal that I have attributed to Sydney, as a city, a place. But I can't seem to shake it. I feel truly alive when I'm somewhere new, with new people, discovering new things about myself and the world. I love the sense of possibility that a new environment offers, the adventure and the sense that anything could happen.
I hope one day that I can be happy here in Sydney. This city is where I grew up. My family lives here. My past is here. I would love to be able to embrace all of the good things Sydney can be. Usually when I arrive home in Sydney, driving from the airport in the early morning I adore Sydney for its blue skies and crisp air. I hope that one day my affection for this city, my home town, will stick around.
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