π° πππππππ π πππ πππ ππππ ππ πππ πππππ πππ π ππππ πππππ πππ ππππππ . πΈ ππππ πππππππππ πππ πππ ππππ π ππππ πππππ ππ π πππ ππππ’ ππππ πππ πππππ πππππππππβπΈ'π ππππ π πππππππ. πΈ πππππ π πππ, ππππ π πππ, πππ πππππ ππππ ππππβππ πππ πππ’, ππ πππππ, πππ ππ πππππ π ππ πππ πππποΏ½οΏ½ ππ ππππ πππππ π ππππ ππ ππ. π±ππππππ ππ ππππ πππ πππππππ, πππ π π'ππ ππππππππππ’ ππππ ππππππ ππππππ. I like it when thoughts smell like fresh pages and when lines themselves form a drawing. I love conversations that sparkle like a glass of wine and looks in which you can drown. I donβt like haste without meaning, empty words and greyness that is afraid to be colored.