The year was 1991.... a young fledgling rock star from Seattle was in pain. A lot of pain. Rigorous touring was not to blame. Soon the young musician realized something was wrong. Very wrong. His wife, that he'd had memories of but never actually met was missing from his life. From that time period in general. Trapped in 2012, she awaits a way back. A way back to change the future... a future that turns into a place with no Kurt Cobain.

A murder plot that turns into the most famous suicide in history, this site is dedicated to the small story of the husband who left a billion clues for the wife who figured them out.

Now her goal is to avenge her husband's death by pinning the murderer's with their crime...

Meanwhile she pours herself into her journal, awaiting the day she is finally reunited with her husband in time.

Letters to Kurt...


Friday, June 11, 2010

Depression versus Suicide.


Dear Kurt,


A simple fact bothers me about your case. A lot of people equate depression and suicide to be one in the same.... but that is actually not the case.


Several journalists and articles have come to the conclusion that you did in fact take your life, because... well... you had a "history" of depression.... and.... suicide is what naturally follows.


But all anyone has to do is turn on Daytime Television in America and watch your typical trash talk show, and commercial after commercial will present themselves referring to certain lawsuits for certain drugs for depression.


In these commercials the announcer clearly states, "If you've lost a loved one to suicide while on this particular drug, for the treatment of depression.... contact us...."


These sleazy personal defense lawyers are greedy, but they're not stupid. Doctors and therapists alike speak daily regarding the difference between just feeling blah... unexcited, bored, (a favorite of yours) and just plain unhappy in your life, versus the desire to completely be gone from this Earth. Such a hate and distaste for yourself and life... a despair so dark, that you just wish the pain would end.


That's a completely different ballpark. You spoke only once of "suicide" in your journal. And that was clearly sarcasm regarding taking away your stomach pain that no one could seem to find a single answer to, hey... why don't you just eat ice cream for the rest of your life?? Brilliant medical advice.


Love, your pal.


Justice Seeker.
p.s. I'm depressed right now.... but I'm not about to jump out the fucking window. Right? right. And you had a daughter man. A daughter. Idiots.

No comments: