Saturday - 2/4/2012
Coleridge was a drug addict. Poe was an alcoholic. Marlowe was killed by a man whom he was treacherously trying to stab. Pope took money to keep a woman's name out of a satire then wrote a piece so that she could still be recognized anyhow. Chatterton killed himself. Byron was accused of incest. Do you still want to a writer - and if so, why?
--Bennett Cerf
Well, I’m not a writer, but I *am* a musician. I’m in a field where, if I’m great, I have a good chance of dying at the age of twenty-seven and joining the club with greats such as Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin (among others). That or I’ll turn into Elvis and become a fat, bloated parody of myself playing shows in Vegas and Hawaii. You know, if I’m LUCKY.
And I’m still TOTALLY all over the career. The bad luck of others doesn’t scare me off of a career that I’m so in love with and feel in the depths of my soul.
--Bennett Cerf
Well, I’m not a writer, but I *am* a musician. I’m in a field where, if I’m great, I have a good chance of dying at the age of twenty-seven and joining the club with greats such as Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin (among others). That or I’ll turn into Elvis and become a fat, bloated parody of myself playing shows in Vegas and Hawaii. You know, if I’m LUCKY.
And I’m still TOTALLY all over the career. The bad luck of others doesn’t scare me off of a career that I’m so in love with and feel in the depths of my soul.