Ludovico Einaudi, Primavera

Einaudi is a fucking genius, and I still cannot believe I share the planet with such exquisiteness. I love listening to him, and I love the way he moves his fingers over the piano. His love for his music gives me hope.

So. Music does bring back memories — as most of us have known all along — and I hereby declare Primavera the theme song of my life. It reminds me of everything I have ever said, done, heard, seen, smelled, tasted, touched, thought, experienced. It brings back my entire history and yet manages to tease out a coherent story from the chaotic mess.

I want to die listening to it, and I want it to be played at my funeral. Can I pay someone to do that, or are best friends expected to take care of these things?