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for all the bleeders…

I’ve always loved this poem. I like Poe because he wasn’t afraid to be musical and whimisicaly morose.  He was a bleeder. So am I. This is for you, all you bleeders.



From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

Source: American Poetry: The Nineteenth Century (1993)

10 minutes

I hope this helps! It’s definitely indicative of my problem.

The Wimpy Way To Be Fearless: Just Do It For 10 Minutes!


Bless the Interstate, they Don’t Know Where it Goes!

Two fabulous mid-90s articles on Dead Hot. Lots of good information. I <3 DHW.

Kentucky New Era- Dead Hot Workshop Follows Gin Blossoms’ Trail – Richard Ruelas

TAG’s Dead Hot Workshop Offers Eclectic ‘1001’ – David Sprague

 To happen overnight you have to fool people into liking you, and that’s not what we’ve ever been about.