Courtney Love and Grunge

grunge.jpg
“Grunge.”Lavine, Michael. 2009.
When I was turning 27, I felt like dying.
Kurt Cobain made absolute sense.
I wandered in the beautiful philosophy of death.
Every night as I turned off the lights,
approaching the eve of my new age,
I was setting off into trance of pitch black sight.
I was alone at the center of that dark universe.
It gave me chills and urge of lust and there’s just no word
that would exactly describe the feeling.
Maybe, bliss.
Maybe, nirvana.
The flesh of my physical existence
bloomed like eternal sunshine.
Nobody would understand Kurt.
He killed himself, but it wasn’t suicide –
it was freedom.
He was not a sick and depressed junkie;
he was an eclectic geek
who happened to tap his highest level of consciousness
that drove him into the wilderness of paradise.
He sided with the point of view of the few.
I understood Kurt with absolute certainty,
and I felt like he left with me a part of his soul
which was pulling me into his reality.
He whispered in my ears,
*And I’m not scared / Light my candles,
in a daze / ‘Cause I’ve found god.
——————–
*Lithium. Nirvana. 1992.
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