Notting Hill Carnival

Paint on the floor, cans bottles food.. On the floor. So many people, every movement is a struggle, wrestling your way through drunken youthful inhabitants of London enjoying the vibes. Every metre is a fresh scent of weed, drifting through your nose and in turn tickling your senses like a blow of relaxation.
Looking around at a sea of colours, feeling like I'm floating... Drowning in the madness.
Every character is a new entity, curled moustaches, burgers the size of children's faces, colours and patterns you thought you'd never see together... No rules = more fun.

Security? Police? Bullshit. I have seen more joints in the past few hours than I have in my past few years.

Floral headdress , red Indian feathers... The crazier the better. That item of clothing you never dared to wear... Now is your moment, grab a drink and shake your fucking tail feathers.