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...


Monday, May 27, 2013

For those of you who think I am completely full of shit.... read Kurt's last two albums... He wrote tons of lyrics to me including one that says "WE CAN SHARE ENDORPHNS"   for some one who doesn't have many feelings for me, he considered sharing blood cells with me and being one as romantic as it gets.


WE CAN SHARE ENDORPHNS....  that's to ME. And then he goes into talking about his description of Frances "his own pet virus..."


I am my own parasite
I don't need a host to live
We feed off of each other
We can share our endorphns
Doll steak, test meat

I won my own pet virus
I get to pet and name her
Her milk is my shit
My shit is her milk

Doll steak, test meat
Look on the bright side is suicide
Lost eyesight I'm on your side



Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)