Tuesday, March 19, 2013


Kurt Cobain was wrong.

Not about the shotgun in the mouth — sweet little Pisces man went out the way he wanted, via a 20-gauge Remington M-11 shotgun he bought for $308.37, loaded with shells containing #8 shot. He was wearing his Half Japanese t-shirt when he ate his gun. Nothing wrong there, either; in fact, it's more than a little fitting.

The heroin? He wasn't wrong there. The "poet/musician" (it says so on his death certificate) was swimming in a deep river of it when he shot himself, but inside each of us is our own River Styx, a channel of loathing where no one else belongs. Self-hate is in the eye of the beholder. Everyone needs a little dose before they start believing their own hype.

But Cobain was wrong about a different form of hate, the kind you feel for the perceived villains in your life. In Radio Friendly Unit Shifter he listed his Four Commandments:
Hate your enemies
Save your friends
Find your place
Speak your truth
As recently as last summer I fervently embraced all four; my enemies were the things holding me back, and I wished great ills on their brows and souls. But in these last days of winter I feel the wheels turn away from that bitter road— and this is odd, because now more than ever there are people I want to hate, circumstances I wish to despise. The urge to flip off the world I once knew, to burn all that shit down, to scream at the unfairness — it almost overwhelms, especially when there are no distractions and I am forced to look at what I've done.

It is impossible to forget pain, and the scars it has left behind are throbbing. I kid myself and others by blowing it off as no big thing, just a temporary detour in my fabulously badass life. I hang out with hot women and we party until our bleary eyes bulge, and then we laugh at how stupid I was to waste my time coz Right Here, Right Now is just the beginning of the best fucking chapter I've ever experienced, and here's to that fucking sunrise, now it's time for another round, amirite?

It's all a huge lie. Remembering the life I once led and realizing I've pushed it off a cliff hits me in the middle of my stomach and makes me want to throw up. I would vomit but I have a hard time keeping anything down anyway. Another few pounds and I'll be 40 lbs. lighter than I was 16 months ago. You know, a couple pounds here, a couple weeks of not eating there, and pretty soon you can be down to a 29-inch waist. I'm sure there are healthier ways to get svelte but for all-over misery and fast, fast aging, I highly recommend heartbreak.

Just don't mix it with hate for others. Whatever you do, don't create that incendiary cocktail. Don't hate your enemies, the very people you once adored. As the 20th century Ron told the present-day Ron last summer: try with all your heart to find a place where grace exists. Try to look to the light. Lie to yourself and say it's sunshine, and praise the warmth, even if it's just a memory.

Do that and maybe, just maybe, you won't go shopping for a Half-Japanese t-shirt and other accessories. Or maybe you've already ordered it and it's on its way. If so, find your place and speak your truth. Here's hoping it fits.

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