Dear Kurt,
A few nights ago, at our week long stay at what had to be one of the fucking coolest hostels on the planet (up until the point where we got kicked out for our preaching),
We had made two true believers out of a couple of locals. First, as we were getting stoned off of some great weed, I felt the munchies kick in, and I glanced down at the desk in the tiny room to find a random fortune cookie in its wrapping.
Who knows how long it had been there, or where it had came from.
But I eagerly snatched it up and didn't even think of what the "fortune" might have said inside.
As I cracked open its shell, I pulled the slip of paper out in slow-motion as the words struck me like a jackhammer.
"Music is the Soul of Language"
It gives us both chills as I write. And the non-believer by my side's jaw dropped.
Helluva trick.
Then as we sat on the smoking/drink till you drop patio... One of the hardcore, typical 'defend America for all its invisible bullshit' types had the fucking nerve to say to me;
"You know Dave Grohl wrote most of Nirvana's songs..."
And like clockwork... I laughed, we turned the dial on the radio -- and Come As You Are started from the very beginning...
They both looked as though they had seen a ghost... And I nonchalantly say:
"Kurt accepts your apology."
This next one goes out to this country and all it's corruption.
Love and Peace or Else
Performed by U2
Written By Kurt Donald Cobain
Lay down Lay down
Lay your sweet lovely on the ground
Lay your love on the track
We're gonna break the monster's back
Yes we are...Lay down your treasure
Lay it down now brother
You don't have time
For a jealous lover
As you enter this life
I pray you depart
With a wrinkled face
And a brand new heart
I don't know if I can take it
I'm not easy on my knees
Here's my heart
I'll let you break it
I need some release, release, release
We need
Love and peace
Love and peace
Lay down
Lay down your guns
All your daughters of Zion
All your Abraham sons
I don't know if I can make it
I'm not easy on my knees
Here's my heart
I'll let you break it
I need some release, release, release
We need
Love and peace
Love and peace
Baby don't fight
We can talk this thing through
With me, me and you
I'll call on your phone
The TV is still on
But the sound is turned down
And the troops on the ground
Are about to dig in
And I wonder where is the love?
Where is the love?
Love and peace
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
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...
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