Strong winds, clear skies, and kites. The box kite flew well. I sat up on a hill, layed in the grass, drank Boonesfarm, and watched the kite glide lazily through the sky.
Up and away.
The skies clouded up and I biked home, still slightly drunk. I felt a bit like a hobo. But then I threw my empty bottle in a trashbin, and saw what it is that separates me from the degenerates. I know how to use a trashcan and a restroom.
My moment of zen.