25 Ağustos 2010 Çarşamba

I love London when it's raining. Oh really?

Rain makes most cities dreadfully romantic except London...

Because London is not a city to hide. It's a stage with no holes to lurk. It has a powdered story, a made up face with lots of matte foundation on it. Its song is the noise of shoes... Shoes, shoes... Sea of shoes; every town has its own pairs. For example East London has few options: babets and hills for women and leather shoes for men. All signed by Threadneedle Street dust on their corners.
If there is nothing to hide then there is nothing to love? Certainly not. Everything has a price in this city some are written on the etiquette some are not pronounced but known by all.

First of all love and London come from the same directions however they absolutely go to opposite poles. Love is fed by probabilities just like London. London likes probabilities, forecasts and estimates... Nevertheless this city does not have any patient, it expects a result in twenty-four hours. In contrast, love is eternal, less complicated but not simple.

Second of all love is uncountable whereas London is countless. Too many options, things to worry about. Love is away from worries, it is to give happiness with or without you.

Lastly, London does not require you to have a gender. You can be something or someone tonight and wake up as another one tomorrow morning. But love traditionally emerges from two-sided male/female energy- like a two-sided sword that no one can win the game.

And I love London when it's raining because the rain removes its make-up and makes its people disperse to find a hole to hide themselves...

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