You ask me why I am here, In the capital city. All by myself. And why I love it.
My dear, it's the city I love. It's the little things combined. Like the smell of endless possibilities Or the rush hour in the afternoon.
It's the sparkling lights on the rooftops by night, Or the feeling of acceptance. It's the people you see day in and day out, The blurry faces passing by.
It's the feeling of being part of something big, But at the same time being unknown. It's the friendships you make when moving waveringly through the crowded pubs on midnight.
It's the never ending traffic and the horns and the shouting. It's the silence you hear after stuffing in the earplugs because the noises drove you crazy.
It's everything and nothing. It's just me being here. Being myself.