To Kurt

Well, you're dead to state the obvious. You were an amazing artist and lyrical genious. . . Even though I know you thought you sucked. . .But it's okay, I think I suck too.
I know you couldn't handle being a "rockstar" but you could've stuck around another ten years. . .To help teach our generation about something other than sex and alcohol. . .Maybe "teach" isn't the best word for it. . .Show. Maybe that's it. . . But anyhow, my generation has gone to shit even in the short time it's been here. . .We're too new. We never appriciate anything. . .And nothing ever happens fast enough. . .We don't understand the meanings behind the chords and the lyrics. . . They hear something that doesn't make sense and they automatically lable it as "weird" or "boring". I can relate to so much you have written. . .The depression, the feeling like an outcast. . .I know. . . The trying of different drugs to try and obtain the feeling you're searching for. . .It all adds up. . .
I wish I could've met you because I want to know what you think of me. . .And I want you to know that your opinion counts. . .I honestly want to know if I'm a fuck up or smart. . . I felt like you could've understood me. . .
When I read your journal, 'wow, I'm jealous. . ."
Because I am jealous that you could write like that and I can't. I'm jealous that you could write such deep and perfect songs and I can't. I have the urge to copy you because you've inspired me. . .I would never tell them I wrote it. . .I'd just tell them the truth. . .I just wish I could have witnessed one of your concerts. And I also wonder if I could have saved you. . .Or could have stopped you. . .You were beautiful. Inside and out. And I just want you to aknowledge that. . .You didn't have to be ashamed of being an American white male. . .You actually had nothing to be ashamed of at all. . .
But I do. . .I'm ashamed of not knowing who you were until now. I'm ashamed of being jealous of you. I'm ashamed that I feel horrible every time I see your face and hear your songs. Something in me says your death wasn't right and you're life was wawy too short. . .Every time I hear a story about you or hear your songs, I want to cry. . .I probably sound like a creepy, super-fan, but I'm not. . .I'm just a girl with a thought and a jealous mind. If I could explain, I would. But sadly, I can't. I'm unable. It's up to you to decide.
I hope you appriciate my concern because it's all I can offer you. . .Unless you want my bad habbits or perogative. . .Which isn't anything paramount, I promise. But trust me, if you were here, and even if you weren't a big star, or even one a big star who didn't have time for a stupid unimportant girl such as myself, I'd still be here for you. . . Even though you're dead, I'm still here. . .By the way, Cobain's Disease was a good name for an album. . .
And happy birthday Kurt...today, 20th February, I celebrate your 46th aniversary, and it's quite funny 'cause tomorrow I will celebrate mine...I will become a stupid 18 years old girl but even like this I still love you!

Morphine

Addicted to morphine
The hollow taste of a morbid sence
That's running down in my blood
That's leaving me with no defence

Delivered into madness
I want to feel it in my veins
What a sweet bitterness
All is gone,nothing remains.

Rotting in my alchoolic shell
And crawling on the floor
I wanna taste it again
I blindly beg for more...

One By One

Damned illusion of life,
It seems to wanish all away
Running to the edge of the world,
Begging my shadow to stay.

And when impatiently I wait
The night to appear once again,
I smoke my dreams one by one
Knowing that all was in vain.

The devil,the death,
Could crawl at my feet
It makes no use anyway,
It's something they can't defeat.

But knowing that all was stolen
Will drive me to the guilty one,
Wishing I could kill the cursed
One by one.....