It’s better to burn out than fade away.

I found the text below while searching for a photo of Kurt wearing his nerdy, thick black framed eyeglasses. I love how the words are so alive and not just inanimate letters. Author:

On this day 18 years ago, Kurt Cobain blew his brains out.

I was a freshman in college and worked as a—get this—MAID. Yessir, I was Maid Mike, scrubbing jizz off motel room walls. My boss loved me because I was the only employee he had who could speak English.

Anyway, the girl I was seeing at the time was not really a Nirvana fan. She was mostly into rap. Obviously, our relationship was doomed. In fact, we pretty much hated each other by the time Cobain killed himself and broke up shortly after.

I heard about it at work, from her. I remember she drove all the way down to the motel to tell me. She went up and down the sidewalks until she found me.

“Guess what?” she said.


“Cobain killed himself.”

I stood there holding my pubic hair covered toilet brush, shocked. “Bullshit,” I said.

“I just saw it on MTV News. Kurt Loder was practically in tears.”

“No way.”


Later on, I was drinking. The news had actually torn me apart. I remember being surprised by that, by how hard it hit me. I was enraged, depressed, slamming beers, blasting Nirvana. She was there with her friend Erin and they were mocking him, saying in whiny tones, “Oooh my name’s Kurt Cobain and my tummy hurts! Oooh my name’s Kurt Cobain and I’m a millionaire rock star that no one understands!” So on.

The bitches. Eventually, I snapped and I threw them out of my apartment. My angry response had scared Erin and she left right away, but my girlfriend was resistant, telling me the “lighten up.”

“If you don’t get the fuck away from me, I am going to pick you up by your neck and throw you out the fucking window.” I lived on the second floor and was dead serious.

That got her to go. She called me an asshole and slammed the door behind her.

We sort of made up a day or two later, but like I said, our relationship was doomed.

A few years later, long after we had broken up, Tupac was gunned down. She was a big fan of his and I actually thought about calling her up and going, “Oooh, my name’s Tupac and even though I’m a talented and successful recording artist, I’m still all ‘rapped’ up in this trifling gangsta shit! Oooh and look how it got me killed!”

I didn’t, though. Too much class.

Author/The text is taken from:

KC reading a newspaper article. I liked Nirvana, but man, I loved Kurt.

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