The Art of Being an Imposter
Do you know that feeling? You walk into a place, a venue, a scene, a moment, and even though you haven’t been there in years, it feels like you just left. It’s a strange, electric kind of déjà vu. It’s thrilling, it’s exciting, and yet, there’s that quiet, nagging realisation: I don’t actually belong here.
Marngrook of steel
Friday night. The air is crisp, and I’m sitting in the stands, proudly wearing my brand new red and white hoodie. It’s been a while since I was a regular at Swans games, but tonight, I’m back, and the energy is magnetic.