Is black my synonym?

Perhaps as it is researched and proved, one loves the color with which one relates oneself. One may term a lover of black to be a sad, morose, secretive, depressed and lonesome kind of a person. Perhaps before making such misinterpreted statements with regards to one’s love for black, one should know why one loves black.

I love the color black as I relate with it. Black and I are both misunderstood and misinterpreted, yet we are survivors in the ship. We are both primarily hated as we are both confident survivors with the highest amount of inner strength. Weaker colors and humans have envied us throughout for the same but yet we survive their sabotages and conspiracies.

Solitude is what we have always accepted with gratitude, we are both intense and have a lot within us, we both have very few friends but we have a rule which states “Solitude is better than being in vice company”. Our feelings remain unaffected by those around us, simply because we both do not trust anyone easily, neither do we compel others to do the same.

We both happen to be confident, powerful, graceful, and elegant; we also seem to be the most mysterious wherever we are, folks around beg us to unveil our inner self, We used to be naïve enough to do this earlier as the puzzle solver leaves once the puzzle is least solved and one’s ego is satisfied. Now we prefer that those who attempt to solve us leave due to the frustration of not having least solved us. Nobody has ever solved either of us completely. Probably that is because we have a million and more mysterious cocoons around us, each of which is a riddle in itself.

Neither of us would even attempt justifying being termed morose, depressed and all of those presumed and assumed phrases of the weaker sect. We would rather silently smile to the fool’s unasked sympathy. We are living originalities, and not the masked and sugar coated crooks.