It's a kind of magic

I felt asleep this morning at exactly 05:57 because the last thing I did was telling Max on the phone that being around him rocks. There are tons of good memories to warm up this cold Sat: my Danish name shall be 'Ingeborg' (?), gay bars have the best music, pretty shoes can kill you when walking on snow, and Billie Jean is not my lover.

The best was however a silent moment - while walking out from the bar, the first thing I saw was the Cathedral. I have never been there, but that was the first place my brother proactively visited when he was here (and showed me pictures... shame on Ingeborg). I thought about him and how small details can twist the path of fate.

Explaining: Little brother can say 'Stockholm' and I would drop everything and buy the Leica of my dreams. He makes me follow dreams, or at least test-drive them. One of my Copenhagean friends told me that he could not see the magic in people anymore. And that he doesn't feel others see his magic either. In my case, brother talks magic with every word he says because I am very receptive to his opinions.

The clue about understanding other human beings is the willing to do it. Making friends is actually NOT easy - requires for you to listen, listen, listen, so one day you understand and there are no explanations between the two of you needed. One definitely attract the friends one deserves. Guess I did something good in my past lives, because I find people around me absolutely fantastic...