I pull up the hood to my green Patagonia jacket. He wears a similar style but a darker shade of green. Right now, I don’t give a fuck. The media isn’t around to write up articles about our similarities, but even if they were, I don’t care anymore. Compared to what else is on my plate, it’s insignificant. I don’t care if you know how much I love him. How much he means to me. How much he influenced and shaped me. I am who I am, and I’m not changing. I can’t change for anyone. Not even for my own dad.
