Dear Kurt,
Creating this blog, with the meaning behind it, can take a toll. I feel as though it is helping me to get some of my 'lost' feelings down on paper... but at the same time, I find myself wanting to avoid writing here because it's just too sad. Too sad.
I've been reading this book on and off entitled "Broken Open." It is essentially a spiritual journey with the intent of enticing the reader to go deep inside themselves and discover what's in their heart and soul, and proceed to follow it. Your heart. As opposed to using your brain and mind all the time.
In it, there are all kinds of stories about how all these "intelligent" people, mostly business types who make a lot of money, finally discovered what their heart was telling them, and essentially finally decided to give their soul the time of day. Rather then being the typical American who dwells far more on shopping, spending money, making money, socializing, watching TV, buying TV's, spending money.... you know... Your favorite type of macho man jerk off.
"Surface" human-beings (i.e. Courtney Love.)
And as I'm reading through this book, I find myself scoffing every five minutes at the context... because I just can't relate. I was essentially thinking to myself... "I need a book that is entitled 'Closed Up.'"
My point of this is, sometimes I feel like I just can't relate to anyone or even want to begin a relationship with anyone because, well... I just feel too much. I have too much soul. I'm way too deep. Every move I make in my life revolves around what's inside my heart.
I seem to have a problem doing the sensible thing. The responsible thing. The practical thing. By the way, I hate the term practical. To me that word is the enemy. It is basically a mother's word that encourages you to throw away your passion, your love, your heart and soul... and spend your life doing something you absolutely despise in order to have food in your stomach and a roof over your head -- and nothing more.
Nothing more than tears at the end of the day and a heart broken in two. Let me explain in a little more detail what I mean by "too" deep. Sometimes I find myself laughing during the day, which is rare lately. But when I do manage to laugh (mostly at myself), like when I start tugging on someones hotel room door, when I think it's the entrance to the stairs, I find myself taken aback.
And my thoughts drift to these letters. You. I have such empathy for others, and what was taken from them unjustly, and it's so hard to not remember. Every second of every day. It's hard to think that it's okay. It's almost as if, some of us were born with the ability to feel for others so much more vividly than the average person.
When I actually sit back, and try to picture that day... and what it must have been like for you. And to analyze the young age of 27, your sweet desires and plans for you and your daughter. Your whole existence... washed away by the hands of another. I feel that pain so deeply for another individual, it's almost as if it's inside me.
I'm broken open every second of every day and it consumes my existence. Sometimes I wish I could just not care. Not care about anything but the shallow things. Like a new pair of shoes. Why can't I just be normal and buy a bunch of things to make me feel good?
If I were handed a million dollars tomorrow for one of my scripts, I'd be relieved. Finally not worrying about food or rent... but I couldn't think of a single thing that I'd desire to purchase with it. I read in an article, that one of the main reasons you were initially drawn to Courtney was because you saw her as a "female version" of yourself.
After reading your journal, and everything about your death and investigation.... a million quotes from her... and I'd say she had you fooled like a little child. She made sure she was known as your wife in life, and now she's making sure she rides your fame as the "widow" sixteen years later.
And I hate to tell you, but she's sick of living off of your money. She wants to be able to buy her own shoes from money she's made. And LOTS of shoes. Sixteen years after your death, and these are still the material comments she makes when referring to you in conversation.
I am so sorry you ever met her. Of course, you'd still be with us if you hadn't. And then I would be aware that there was still someone walking this earth who knows exactly what it's like to have a soul so deep, it hurts.
And then I wouldn't feel so alone.
Peace.... Love.... Empathy,
Justice Seeker.
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