The good ol' summer days it seems, like it was only yesterday. Getting up either at ten in the morning, or one in the afternoon; I stop and thought about the kids that woke me up today. I remember always waking up, so excited to go to practice every three to four days a week. We practical lived at our guitarist place at the time. Nothing but good vibes, begin brothers, sharing the wonderful times we had, and ordering pizza. Everytime I pass that walk way, I can see myself crossing the road into that walkway, with a gig bag on my back, walking for about an hour or half in the blazing summer heat, and the hest beaming itself at me. I can still feel all the sweat that went through my back. Calling my guitar player just to come outside to grab a hold of my bass, so I can I climb the fence as quick as I can. I do indeed miss those days, and I know I cannot relive them; and I know for sure I cannot try to recreate something that happened, and all I can do is just remember.... I miss my band, I miss F.A.T