Dear Kurt,
I once took a baseball bat to one of my screenplays. The struggles of going about sharing your creative work with uninterested strangers can take a toll. Not only on your heart and soul, but also on your own opinion of your work.
You not only begin to resent the whole concept of what it takes to achieve success and the people who have the power to get your work seen... but you begin to resent your own passion too. This was the cause of my angry bat-wielding rant that, literally, tore my script into a million pieces.
In a way, it was symbolic. All the pain I've been consumed with has stemmed from this undying love to be appreciated, like anyone who creates -- whether it be music, paintings, film, stories, poems, novels or interesting lamp work -- seeking approval. I couldn't rightfully take a baseball bat to the heads of all the "heads" who ignore my emails and messages again and again.
So, the only way to relieve myself of the anger and frustration... was to take it out on my work. After all, if it weren't for it, I'd be a normal, happy, sane person living a normal, happy, sane life free of constant disappointment. If I were to end it (which I never would) but if I were to... I'd probably, literally, stab myself in the heart... because it's what has caused me a lifetime of pain.
But if my films ever do become a reality, and the surprising popularity of them manages to be larger and trendier than I desire... I would probably have a similar attitude as you did over your mega-hit "Smells Like Teen Spirit." You actually refused to play it at several shows due to your distaste in its sole success.
It was painfully obvious that one of the main reasons you wanted out of the mainstream grunge world was when you realized that all of your fans, essentially, were made up of your least favorite macho male. I mean, how could you rightfully continue performing for these people when you would go home every night and write in your journal about how you despised and felt threatened by the exact people who were filling your shows thirty rows deep?
That would have made any sane person cringe. I feel for you, Kurt. But it wasn't enough to cause you to put a gun to your head. You were handling it, and you were planning a life change. You did everything right in cutting out the things that weren't working for you. It was the others... who were doing everything wrong.
Your spirit lives on. As does your music.
Peace.... Love.... Empathy,
Justice Seeker.
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