I tend to like things that nobody has bothered to like. I tend to like the deserts more than the snow and crumbling mountains instead of seas. Maybe if I watch the crumbling things wither by erosion or by mere time I’ll realize they understand what it’s like to silently but surely drift away. Maybe I think that if I talk to grey she’ll tell some tale of what made her into the colour she is. I tend to love things none bothers to notice. I tend to love a forbidding sad city that loses more than it can get. I tend to love Karachi. I tend to find home in busy hustling cities where there is peace only because the loudness prevents the existence of anything but itself. A cacophony so bombarding that it’s like a constant coma of white noise. I like the taste of bitter dark chocolates so bitter that they understand my soul. Maybe I already have a blog entry on this. Maybe I don’t. I just wanted to say I love things that no one loves.
And maybe that’s why I tend to love myself.