It’s really hard to impress me. I’ve seen, heard, tasted, so many things that it’s hard to find a great conversation with the people I know. Only few of them can show me something. It’s not that I’m the infinite master of wisdom, but I’m surrounded with sheeps that know nothing about nothing, only the bullshit that they get on TV.
And then there’s you. Who makes me feel like a little kid learning something new. Every day. Every fucking day.
Sometimes I think that you know more than me about even the things I love.
My music is your music. My stories, you know them by heart. My movies… you even show me amazing movies I’ve never heard of.
What the fuck.
You have a perception of the world that I thought no one could have.
You have that drive that if I say, “hold my hand, let’s run, and don’t ask me why” you’d just run with me.
I know that if I go to take a walk with you, you would do the thing I always did to people. Point something with your hand in the street and talk about it.
I want to be a sponge to you, I want to absorb every single story that you could tell me. I want to listen why the floor square lines don’t match with the architecture of a building, why this painting is not from the renaissance but from the baroque era, why you think Jon Snow will not eventually die, I want you to tell me why you think the Calluna is the most beautiful flower, the why of many things, the why red is red.