Kurt Cobain was a star that couldn’t deal well with celebrity. He couldn’t deal well with life which ultimately led to suicide.
His journal with messy spelling and grammar left intact was published after his death. Here are some quotes from it.
I’m not well read but when I read I read well.
Some people read a lot. And they remember nothing. Some people read a lot. And they learn nothing. Some people read some, but what they read they make useful. They grow emotionally, they develop intellectually, and they use what’s read to improve their selves.
Here I am inspired to write only because I’m pissed of.
The cliché of unhappy artist is well known. Kurt Cobain lived it till the end. Anger can be turned into creative energy. Still, creation could not save him from his self-destruction.
It’s hard to decipher the difference between a sincere entertainer and an honest swindler.
Entertainers have personas. Personas are not reality. They are not completely untrue. Instead, they float somewhere in between the fiction and reality.
For every one opinionated, pissy, self-appointed rock judge-cermudgeon, there’s a thousand screaming teenagers.
Art is not easy to be judged. Maybe it shouldn’t be judged at all. When one starts up he faces rejection after rejection. Stephen King did too. Sylvester Stallone did. And once you reach the top, you still will face critics. One has the best selling book, and then they say that the next one is not good enough. One has the best selling record, and then gets critiqued for not surpassing his own success.
One thing that Cobain knew is that the audience had a final word.
I think that the problem with our story is that there isn’t an exciting enough truth for a good story.
Cobain was aware that in the media business, entertainment is the king. It’s all show, and it has to be fun.
I like to have strong opinions with nothing to back them up with besides my primal sincerity.
The only thing that one can be fully certain of is what one thinks. And even that doesn’t happen often.
Music is energy. A mood, atmosphere. Feeling.
Music is universal language. Music will set the mood. Music will cause emotions. Music listened at the concert is the energy exchanged. It’s the energy flow between musicians and fans. It’s the energy exchanged and shared by the audience.
Theory is a waste of time.
Aristotle would not agree. He said that life not contemplated was not worth living.
It’s true that often reality denies the theory. One needs to check theories. Live! Then come up with a new theory to test.
You have raped me harder than you’ll ever know.
Just like infidelity, there’s a physical rape, and emotional rape. Having one’s ‘heart’ raped can be painful for the soul. But you can make your soul resistant to negative emotions coming your way.
Oh, and just for the record, Cobain was singing Rape me, my friend. Rape me again…
Soon we will need chick spray repellant.
This is true. It’s always been true. Celebrities attract. It’s their job to attract. And stars have charisma. Rock stars have sexual charisma. At concerts, girls may throw panties on the stage. When Tommy Lee plays with Motley Crue and asks for chicks to show their boobs, many do it gladly (even though they may be sitting up on their boyfriend shoulders). When Gene Simmons shows his tongue, girls want it… you know where… They don’t mind being one of the many. They want to be the number. They want to get into their sex book. And while they may try to hide some other casual encounters, they will brag about their one night stand with the rock god. Even with demigod. Even with demon.
We’re tired of total uncertainty every time we play a show, we think ‘are we going to suck’?
One can reach the star status, and still doubt himself. And luckily, we don’t need a star status to feel confident.
No amount of effort can save you from oblivion.
This is a pessimist view. It says that no matter what you do, it’s never enough. It says that there is a hole that can never be filled. It says that people die eventually. Some can’t handle that fact, so they decide to die sooner.
But hey, why the hell we need to be remembered for our lives to count? Make it count now. Make it count with each and every breath you take.
When I die, I might as well be forgotten the very same second.
Cover photo: mi9.com