I like people who walk slowly, who walk down the street humming nonchalantly, who move to let you pass and who smile at you when you move.
I love people who know how to give gifts and know how to receive them, and those who give hugs without stiffening their backs and those who know that they don’t know.
I love the kind of people who turn over roaches left on their stomachs, who cry when they find a dying sparrow on the side of the road, and I deeply respect those who, without understanding their emotion, let it happen without dwarfing it.
I’m moved by the people whose eyes sparkle, the quirky and unconventional ones, who see the bright side and the glass half full, and the beauty of rain and laughing to themselves, and being moved by music and enjoying it, and accompanying you through your sadness without forcing you to be happy.
I admire those who, being right, are not eager to hold on to it.
To those who know how to let go, to those who don’t want to be on top nor accept to be underneath, to those who don’t build walls, but bridges with words and silences. And I aspire to become one of those beings who crackle without holding anything back and are a thousand colors just before going out …
