FEBRUARY 1st, typically a gloomy and frigid day as most winter days in Boston, Massachusetts seem to be. Not this one.
Today, on February 1st I fly high. So god damn high. My thighs are feeling sore and my crotch starts to sweat. And in a split second, thoughts unable to catch up with the feeling inside, I know exactly what I want in life. I want to fly. I want to feel free, to breathe clean air, to listen to the water, to be able to swing all on my own and to forever preserve the stupid smile that has spilled all over my face in this moment.