Back in high school, our friends had a ritual where we would routinely "borrow" my dad's car late at night (stick the thing in neutral and wheel it down the suburban block). We'd drive outside the city toward the neighboring small towns, sometimes further, and start wrecking mayhem. These nighttime excursions usually involved copious amounts of marijuana, psychedelic mushrooms, stealing lawn gnomes, setting trees on fire, and dressing up in togas (we weren't frat boys, just real artists). We were at the Bastille concert in Toronto around this time and watched Dan Smith get royally mobbed by the crowd while the joint was blazing in the ACC. The same 3 songs were on repeat in the car, over, and over again. Oblivion especially scared the shit out of me because it reminded me of the inevitable death and how ephemeral past experience is. Still in a good mood though. Just need hot tea.