12 year old maniacs breathing and spinning fire nonstop, with kerosene and parafin oil no less..., oh the toxic inhalation, the feel of your lungs melting...fantastic freedom and liberation of the fuego, very open and undisturbed by the nefarious police forces we so often encounter in the bean...Jugglers, diabolo spinners, contortionists proliferate in the Parque Forestal, communing in celebration of life and the gift of spinning...truly a beautiful thing indeed...
I spun as if my life depended upon it, a vital reaffirmation of what has been consuming my life for the last 6 months or so: The intoxicating feel of manipulating fire...It is what ties me and my closest friends together in Boston, and spinning that evening felt like being home again...It felt SO GOOD...except for the dizziness and lack of breath I experienced after accidently inhaling a bit of kerosene, which set me back for a couple hours as I remembered how all my friends had said not to burn with kerosene....Overall though, well worth it and we made a bunch of friends hanging out too: Miguel, a local graffiti artist and DJ (?), Jaun, a graphic design student who also was a talented juggler, and other random colorful folks. Miguel even got up in my notebook, showing me his graff style, even doing my name LEV in graffiti bubbles. AWESOME DAY/NIGHT, I left so exhilirated...
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