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, September 30, 2011

Dear Kurt,

I know we're all losing it now. We need each other so badly it hurts. You hate all the talk about you and your death and any little mention of your name in an article with the term "suicide" makes you cringe.

You want people to know that you were so full of love and had so much to give that you wouldn't have done that to yourself for any reason.

I know that you relished the attention the band gave you and thought it was fun to tell off the media. The last thing you were was "frightened by the pressure" that no one could possibly have put on you because you were in charge all along.

You ached for my love and affection and plotted your escape from the people who craved the fame your connection to them gave 'em, because you knew they wouldn't let you go that easily. And once again you were right.

And just like that, they pulled you away from me and my love that I yearned to give you in return.

I love you honey, and we're coming home together. Finally.

Love always.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

secrets of heroin--

In case you were wondering, certain normal types of heroin allow you to see things in the spirit world and that's how I learned all I could about her (my soulmate)(clairvoyant) other types send you straight to the morgue.

I needed more info on finding her and I took that pure shit, had no idea, one shot would be three times the lethal amount. It was an accident, courtney freaked and covered it up with a suicide.

That's all I figure at this point. So I fucked myself I guess. Shouldn't have took shit I didn't trust.


If river wasn't drunk and lovesick he wouldn't have either.

eskimo kisses...

They are our favorite. We adore each other's noses. So much alike.

Yes we're bored, so sue us. Here's another. Tough times. I would often drink myself into a stupor over her.

I was actually convinced that S. Mathis was actually her, and when the shallow bitch cheated on me I lost it... Then I realized my sister would never do that to me. Nope. Never.

Love that woman.



Performed by Dakona
Written by River Phoenix

Yesterday was the longest day I have seen
But tomorrow could be longer baby
Indecision rising up like steam
From an early morning highway

If things were different everything might work itself out fine
I'd like to see right through the windows in your mind
I know that everyone's got something up their sleeve
So what have you got for me my baby

I'm gonna give it up I think I've had enough
I'm praying for a revelation
Could you set me free ‘cause this is killing me
I'm begging for a revelation
And I know that you know the way

yeah you know the way, ohh ohhh oh ohhh

Twenty-one and the lifeboat is starting to sink
Yeah the water's rushing over my face
Growing tired of living life on my knees
Yeah, I'm begging for some mercy

If things were different everything might work itself out fine
I'd like to see right through the windows in your mind
I know that everyone's got something up their sleeve
So what have you got for me and my baby


I'm gonna give it up because I've had enough
I'm praying for a revelation
Could you set me free ‘cause this is killing me
I'm begging for a revelation
And I know that you know the way
I know now, I know that you know that way
I know now, I'm begging for a revelation.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

love letters.

Dear River,

You demanded a love letter like Kurt receives so here I am.

God I don't know where to begin. I'm sure many still don't agree with the kind of love we share as brother and sister... But the brilliant part is, neither of us care.

Our love for each other is as pure and, yes, possessive as it comes. No letter will come close to the expression in which we need to embody our feelings.

I know one thing... I'm glad I'm the one you planted those rumors about.

The people who read about you and think they know you are very mistaken. The only thing they know of you are lies you've planted yourself to get them off your back because everyone wanted a piece and they wouldn't understand the only piece of your heart (all of it, honey (from river), belonged to me.

I love you.


Sunday, September 25, 2011


Hello Mayor McGinn??? You irish bug??? I was FUCKING MURDERED you asshole! Listen to my goddamn wife, she knows best (my real one)


P.s. They say my case was reopened. We'll see....

We can't change the caption on this fucking blackberry


Friday, September 23, 2011

Dear Kurt,

"And this is the smile that I've never shown before....."

This photo never gets old. I can't tell you how many times I've gazed at it (well actually I can), since you're right here begging me to, just to remind me how adorable you are...

but really. You two. I've always wondered what the draw was, but now I now. You both have such an enticing, classic look about you. And I've always thought that about myself too. Now I know why. I've been compared to a look of the 50's that isn't around much anymore.

A lot of our photos don't do that justice, but River knows, we rub noses often because, well ours are identical.

Cannot describe how much I love you. But I don't need to, you know. :-)


Sunday, September 18, 2011

Scene excerpt --

Read scene from River's death, straight from John's perspective.

Going Inside

a video recap....

Note the photo that is hard as hell to find when you do a search, the shot with me on the "phone" holding a shotgun.

That is a HUGE clue that I left her. One, duh, I'm holding a big fucking shotgun to my HEAD, and two.... I'm on the phone. I am telling her that,

"come on, I would never pick up the phone because I know it's not you...." just like in U2's (oops MY) song, "Sometimes you can't make it on your own" , "And it's you when I look in the mirror (identical) and it's YOU when I don't pick up the phone...."

BELOW!!!! yeah. I'm feelin' it....

Everyone needs something to believe in....

And I believe in you. You had the power to

let people in. How would you have wanted

people to remember you? Not this way.

Peace. Love. Empathy.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Dear Kurt,

I left my mp3 player on the bus that contains all our life in music. I'm very nervous that it will be gone and you feel my fear transcending soul to soul.

You encouraged me to look at your adorable Nyquil picture and ensured that I would never lose you, and if left on a bus, you'd be right there where I left you for safe keeping.

You truly are a puppy dog. That bus needs to grace us with its presence, and our music must be retrieved.

I love you. Mmm-hmm.