There is a beautiful post on a blog that I follow that is about the smell of special people, which is not necessarily a specific scent, but a pleasant, nondescript perception, a feeling that wraps us like a soft cover when we’re with our special ones and also when we’re back with them in our memories.
I cling in the scarf that smells of the tube, of the raisins from gluten free scones threw to squirrels, of vinyl discs, of coffee with milk and tea with caramel, the Burberry fragrance and I’m able to smile again. It helps me to endure the passage from five days of stimulating conversations about music, art and literature, with bright young people to a lifetime with people without dreams, speaking of food processors, online shopping, droppings, teachers and lice. It helps me to overcome the opinions of others who thinks I’m the weird one, childish and not very concrete.
I have my own special people, I count them on the fingers of one hand, but I have them and they help me to move forward with a smile (even if they can’t save me from my carelessness: even today I risked being invested because I still look on the wrong side and I sill have confidence in drivers).
TRACK OF THE DAY: Breathe- Rick Astley