Love for London

I’m writing a love letter to my city, a substitute for my passionate lover. It fits me well and helps me live. It helps me with my acute fear of missing out. Wanna go out and paint the town red? London. Wanna stop and marvel at the beauty of nature? From Richmond park to Epping Forest, via Hampstead heath, you will rejoice.
I feel I can’t breathe when I’m away. The town where I drew my first breath stifles my breathing. I serve no purpose, I have no identity when it’s all identical. But when I fly back and glance at those beautiful London lights, I know I am home and I have a purpose. I’m in the middle of the action. I am one with the city and the city is everything. The city is love. The city is hope. The city is youth. Filled with history and multicultural passion, London has a thousand faces for a million tastes and I am one of them.
I feel my thoughts sound different here, like nowhere else. They’ve got an echo that seems to be understood by the streets and the buildings and the lights at night.