Rules are made to be broken
You know that feeling of being a young boy and only caring about being a bad-ass?
Whatever you would do, would be only in the sense of fucking the authority, of being against the socialist rules of the entire community. "Fuck the POLICE!"
There's no authority powerful enough to deny you the right of enjoying a nice bath in a public park. After all that's what "public" means! It's for everybody and everybody owns it. So you can't make the rules you motherfuckers!
Who are you to deny 30 minutes of pure joy? And who are you to deny the eye-catching photos I can take from this? At first, they were afraid I was some kind of authority with that camera around my neck, but when they saw me holding hands with my daughter, these "villains" went frenzy.
For 30 minutes they were the authority around these parts. Half of this central park was looking at them going crazy, breaking the rules and having fun. In the atmosphere of the setting sun, the gipsy cubs were the focus point of the lazy, late afternoon. For a brief moment I felt that feeling of extasy of childhood I sometimes have it in my nostrils when I take a walk through the streets of the village I was raised in.
Summer, green, orange, screams of joy, Sun looking back over the shoulder while going to bed. This always meant that tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day.
I left the guys after showing them some of the photos. I forgot to equip my daughter with Pampers and I paid the price: I had to carry her to the car as she was soaking wet because while she was warning me she has to pee, I think I've ignored her for taking photos.
A day full of broken rules and wet people. Just the way I like it.
What we can do that is Romania. Rules are made for to be violated.
A fish always rots from the head down.
The problem is that no one does anything to be respected this rules. Of course, the Romanian mentality has gone mad.