Some people like the burning sun.
But I prefer the pouring rain, splattering on the pavement like a can of paint.
Some people like blue skies and puffy white clouds.
But I prefer the deep blue of a midnight sky.
Some people like birds and airplanes soaring above the atmosphere.
But I prefer the constancy of the glimmering stars, swirling each in their own colossal galaxies.
Some people like the humor of a reality television show.