I'm sitting here listening to Ritual De Lo Habitual.
I pulled out the little booklet (that mini book inside the insert, remember?) that came with the CD and just kinda glanced at Perry's essay railing against censorship.

The combination of those words in my eyes and "Stop" playing in my ears, and I am 19 years old again, sitting on the couch in my room at the ZBT house in Columbia, MO. Feeling the way I felt then.

I can smell the stale beer and dust.
See the sun coming though the tapestries carelessly hung over the rickety old single-pane windows.
I can hear the commotion down the hall as people congregrate in Brian's room to pull bongs.
And I feel the uncertainty of the future once more.

It's incredible.

Excuse me.
Now it's time to go to onebrownjeff's house over by the Stephen's college campus. We gotta rehearse for tonight.

Maybe some Imo's pizza for dinner tonight and then over to the Blue Note to catch a show.