Dear Kurt,
It’s been sixteen years since you left the world and I will start by saying; I will soon be thirty-two, and it took me these full sixteen years since your passing to discover your heart. I, of course, knew of your music… I was the perfect age (fifteen) at the height of it… I can recite every single word from every hit, but I’ve never called myself a Nirvana fan.
I suppose it’s this attitude that left me vaguely disinterested in even hearing your name or music the years following April 5th 1994. See, I can relate to your love of music and writing. I am a musician and writer myself. It is my heart, my life, my world… my only salvation.
My main passion is filmmaking, and it’s this dream of mine that I’ve been after my whole life that has given me a certain level of depression and sadness since… well, birth. But my depression stems from the lack of control I have in living my dream. I can’t seem to take hold of it no matter what I do… no matter how hard I try.
At times, my depth of loneliness has taken over my existence in such a way that I’ve often considered ending it all. I’ve even penned the slogan:
They say you can’t die from a broken heart…. Yes you can. It’s called suicide.
I’ve felt like this more often than not in my thirty-years on this earth. But I’ve never once actually given into, even close to, the thorough thought of ending it all.
This strength and endurance has lead to the absolute distaste for the name Kurt Cobain, for sixteen years. I read the papers… I read the notations… I read the so-called facts. And I wrote you off.
I wrote you off as a weak, spoiled, ungrateful musician living the ultimate dream – to be paid handsomely – for doing what you love. And it wasn’t enough. You weren’t happy. You weren’t just unhappy… but you’d rather die than keep going under those circumstances.
Well, I am writing this letter to you to apologize for those sixteen years since your death that I was in the dark. After all, I believed what others believed. I believed the media. I believed your wife…
And then I finally did something for myself that I should have done years ago. I finally started learning how to play my favorite instrument in the world… The electric guitar. And although resentful, I began to strum the first few chords of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. And I opened Pandora’s box.
The more I learned the song, the softer I became towards you. I didn’t realize that I was ready to let you into my heart until I was in the music section of a random Barnes and Noble, and your clear, blue eyes were staring back at mine on the cover of a book based on your life. I began to read. But the words on the page, didn’t quite convince me that what I was reading was necessarily true.
So I closed the book, put it back on the shelf… and my eyes were instantly drawn to a large book entitled “Kurt Cobain journals.”
And my heart instantly sank for you. My first thought was, how on earth could anyone live with themselves selling off the most prized personal thoughts of a human-being after their passing.
You clearly despised the media attention. The fan adulation. Shouldn’t that immediately conclude that your heart and soul in your private diary would clearly be off limits as a way for financial gain??
That’s when I began doing my research. On your death. The investigation. Your wife. And my heart broke open. And I am so sorry. God, I am sorry. I am sorry for sixteen years of scoffing at the sound of your name.
But not half as sorry as I am for your daughter and the clear, pure love you shared for her – with her.
I crossed over to the other side. The proof was clear… I know with all my heart, that there is no way on earth you put that gun to your head and pulled the trigger.
I’ve seen the “Suicide” note. And I grasped its meaning. And it is as clear as your astounding blue eyes that you did not write the last four lines of it.
And I’m so sorry. So sorry for the life that was taken from you, the life of your daughter’s lived without you… and the false memories that her mother has given her.
It’s clear from the photos that you adored your daughter, and would have given her your all if circumstances would of allowed.
Money. Greed. Connections. Fame. Rock Star. Success. Attention. Power.
All the evil things that control people. All the things that the majority of the human race now seem to value more than life itself. I’ve heard an interview with you regarding the evil ways of people, the phoniness, the callus behaviors that have paved the way towards your distaste for people in general.
A hate that you clearly stated in your final letter to the world. A letter that you had no intention of being your last.
I too can relate to this. I have managed to build absolutely zero connections with another individual thirty-two years on this earth because of my distaste for these same shallow, deceitful things -- that I am spending my night writing a letter to a dead man who seems to be the only human-being whom I’ve encountered who once walked the earth, who seems to “get” me.
And I’m so sorry. So sorry that what would have been your 42nd birthday has come and gone. And being a female, that concludes another decade that I haven’t been granted the opportunity to become the love of your life.
I was looking over more old photographs of you, and came across a rather adorable shot that featured you with a sweet smile, grasping a Strawberry quik carton…. Before I knew it, I was overcome with emotion and tears were streaming down my face. And all I could say was…
“When you have something like that (the love of a man like you), who could possibly desire the money? Any money. Let alone millions.”
But she did. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that such greed cost you your life… and that connection, that evil behavior overflowed into the Seattle Police Department, and her clout overthrew your case.
But you know what? It’s not over, it’s not nearly over. There are thousands of us out here who STILL try, every day, to convince the ones who can make a difference that your case needs a THOROUGH investigation.
I am in the process of writing the screenplay that shows ALL the details that were swept under the rug…. And one day… one day…. You will have your afterlife revenge.
Because you know what? We love you. I love you. You were an amazing man, an amazing musician and an amazing spirit.
And we haven’t forgotten this. We haven’t forgotten you. And you did have the strength. The endurance. And you had every intention of being there for your daughter. But others had different plans for you and your fortune. And GOD.
I am so sorry, Kurt. So sorry. I never had the privilege of knowing you in person…. But you have managed to work your way slowly into my heart, and for that, I thank you. You’ve been gone sixteen years.
And you still have the power to make people fall in love with you. And that is something Courtney Love will never be able to take from us. Because that kind of power is stronger than life and death. And money and greed.
That’s a power she will never possess. No matter who she manipulates. Something you had all along…. A beautiful soul. And that is eternal. We’re here for you, Kurt.
Peace… Love…. Empathy,
Justice Seeker.
It’s been sixteen years since you left the world and I will start by saying; I will soon be thirty-two, and it took me these full sixteen years since your passing to discover your heart. I, of course, knew of your music… I was the perfect age (fifteen) at the height of it… I can recite every single word from every hit, but I’ve never called myself a Nirvana fan.
I suppose it’s this attitude that left me vaguely disinterested in even hearing your name or music the years following April 5th 1994. See, I can relate to your love of music and writing. I am a musician and writer myself. It is my heart, my life, my world… my only salvation.
My main passion is filmmaking, and it’s this dream of mine that I’ve been after my whole life that has given me a certain level of depression and sadness since… well, birth. But my depression stems from the lack of control I have in living my dream. I can’t seem to take hold of it no matter what I do… no matter how hard I try.
At times, my depth of loneliness has taken over my existence in such a way that I’ve often considered ending it all. I’ve even penned the slogan:
They say you can’t die from a broken heart…. Yes you can. It’s called suicide.
I’ve felt like this more often than not in my thirty-years on this earth. But I’ve never once actually given into, even close to, the thorough thought of ending it all.
This strength and endurance has lead to the absolute distaste for the name Kurt Cobain, for sixteen years. I read the papers… I read the notations… I read the so-called facts. And I wrote you off.
I wrote you off as a weak, spoiled, ungrateful musician living the ultimate dream – to be paid handsomely – for doing what you love. And it wasn’t enough. You weren’t happy. You weren’t just unhappy… but you’d rather die than keep going under those circumstances.
Well, I am writing this letter to you to apologize for those sixteen years since your death that I was in the dark. After all, I believed what others believed. I believed the media. I believed your wife…
And then I finally did something for myself that I should have done years ago. I finally started learning how to play my favorite instrument in the world… The electric guitar. And although resentful, I began to strum the first few chords of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. And I opened Pandora’s box.
The more I learned the song, the softer I became towards you. I didn’t realize that I was ready to let you into my heart until I was in the music section of a random Barnes and Noble, and your clear, blue eyes were staring back at mine on the cover of a book based on your life. I began to read. But the words on the page, didn’t quite convince me that what I was reading was necessarily true.
So I closed the book, put it back on the shelf… and my eyes were instantly drawn to a large book entitled “Kurt Cobain journals.”
And my heart instantly sank for you. My first thought was, how on earth could anyone live with themselves selling off the most prized personal thoughts of a human-being after their passing.
You clearly despised the media attention. The fan adulation. Shouldn’t that immediately conclude that your heart and soul in your private diary would clearly be off limits as a way for financial gain??
That’s when I began doing my research. On your death. The investigation. Your wife. And my heart broke open. And I am so sorry. God, I am sorry. I am sorry for sixteen years of scoffing at the sound of your name.
But not half as sorry as I am for your daughter and the clear, pure love you shared for her – with her.
I crossed over to the other side. The proof was clear… I know with all my heart, that there is no way on earth you put that gun to your head and pulled the trigger.
I’ve seen the “Suicide” note. And I grasped its meaning. And it is as clear as your astounding blue eyes that you did not write the last four lines of it.
And I’m so sorry. So sorry for the life that was taken from you, the life of your daughter’s lived without you… and the false memories that her mother has given her.
It’s clear from the photos that you adored your daughter, and would have given her your all if circumstances would of allowed.
Money. Greed. Connections. Fame. Rock Star. Success. Attention. Power.
All the evil things that control people. All the things that the majority of the human race now seem to value more than life itself. I’ve heard an interview with you regarding the evil ways of people, the phoniness, the callus behaviors that have paved the way towards your distaste for people in general.
A hate that you clearly stated in your final letter to the world. A letter that you had no intention of being your last.
I too can relate to this. I have managed to build absolutely zero connections with another individual thirty-two years on this earth because of my distaste for these same shallow, deceitful things -- that I am spending my night writing a letter to a dead man who seems to be the only human-being whom I’ve encountered who once walked the earth, who seems to “get” me.
And I’m so sorry. So sorry that what would have been your 42nd birthday has come and gone. And being a female, that concludes another decade that I haven’t been granted the opportunity to become the love of your life.
I was looking over more old photographs of you, and came across a rather adorable shot that featured you with a sweet smile, grasping a Strawberry quik carton…. Before I knew it, I was overcome with emotion and tears were streaming down my face. And all I could say was…
“When you have something like that (the love of a man like you), who could possibly desire the money? Any money. Let alone millions.”
But she did. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that such greed cost you your life… and that connection, that evil behavior overflowed into the Seattle Police Department, and her clout overthrew your case.
But you know what? It’s not over, it’s not nearly over. There are thousands of us out here who STILL try, every day, to convince the ones who can make a difference that your case needs a THOROUGH investigation.
I am in the process of writing the screenplay that shows ALL the details that were swept under the rug…. And one day… one day…. You will have your afterlife revenge.
Because you know what? We love you. I love you. You were an amazing man, an amazing musician and an amazing spirit.
And we haven’t forgotten this. We haven’t forgotten you. And you did have the strength. The endurance. And you had every intention of being there for your daughter. But others had different plans for you and your fortune. And GOD.
I am so sorry, Kurt. So sorry. I never had the privilege of knowing you in person…. But you have managed to work your way slowly into my heart, and for that, I thank you. You’ve been gone sixteen years.
And you still have the power to make people fall in love with you. And that is something Courtney Love will never be able to take from us. Because that kind of power is stronger than life and death. And money and greed.
That’s a power she will never possess. No matter who she manipulates. Something you had all along…. A beautiful soul. And that is eternal. We’re here for you, Kurt.
Peace… Love…. Empathy,
Justice Seeker.
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