Kurt Cobain filled dozens of notebooks with lyrics, writings, ideas, and drawings about his thoughts about fame, the state of music, the state of his generation, his plans for Nirvana and humans in general. His journals reveal an artist who loved music, who knew the history of it, and who was determined to define his place in that history. His journals also revealed the dark side of his mind. Cobain was a famously talented and infamously troubled artist who was trying to find his way in this world.
Kurt Cobain was deeply depressed, up to the point where he took his own life with a shot gun back in 94. Which is heartbreaking because by the looks of his journals, he really was, in a way reaching out for help. Charles R. Cross, author of 2001’s well-regarded Cobain bio, ”Heavier Than Heaven” said ”It wasn’t like these things were squirreled away or hidden under a desk or something, he encouraged people to read them.”
In Cross’ book he quotes Courtney Love, Cobain’s ex lover who says: ‘You really have to read his journals if you want to understand Kurt.”
I bought Kurt Cobain Journals back in high school because when I was younger I always said Kurt Cobain was the only one who “gets it.” That artist who peeled back the curtains and asked what else is there? There has to be more than this. What the fuck are we all doing?
I’m going to share with you guys some of my favourite pieces of his writing, as well as the pieces that really hit a heart string. The drawings I share are all found in his journal as well. Cobain was a character alright. One of the best kinds.
Here is a picture of the outside of one of his journals:
Reversion relapse
Such high expectations, so much support, everyone wants it more than me. Almost feel like doin it for them, such high aspirations. Infinity doesnt exist. Mathematics are based on 10. Numeral variations are the synthesis of retrogression, such being: reactive, cause and effect, communication and, scenario, social interplay with situations, people, music, sports, war, regional determination of botanical possibilities. Hi, I don’t have dyslexia. An infrared light will simulate the sun in times of winter. A hypnotherapist will hold your hand and aid you into going back to bed. Downers and heroin make you itch. If you talk to a friend, the friend will offer you a lots of remedies that you’ve already tried. The first seven years of my life were amazing, incredible, realistic and an absolute grateful joy.
To be positive at all times is to ignore what is important, sacred or valuable. To be negative at all times is to be threatened by rediculousness and instant decredibility. To translate opinions in an obvious search for proof of intelligence in the manner of an abusive use of obscure descriptive words is a desperational will to sincere, yet retarded expression.
I feel there is a universal sense amongst our generation that everything has been said and done. True. But who cares, it could still be fun to pretend. This is the first decade since the early 1940’s that two generations share the same music. (The old school and the new school)
Just before I fall asleep and when I’m really bored I… lay down and think for awhile until I fall into a semi-hypnotic state of sub-consciousness, some call it day dreaming, some call it just fucking spacing out. But I feel like I’m not here and it doesnt matter because I’m sick of putting myself in boring situations and conversations, just everyday basic sitcom happenings. Some call it thinking but when I’m in this particular state of mind I forget to think and it becomes strictly observatory. I notice things very sensitively like if I focus really hard I can see small transparent blotches of debris on the outer shell of my eyes. (Or the conjunction) and can only follow it when my eye moves downward. It’s like watching film footage of amoeba or jelly like plankton under a miscrscope. And when I close my eyes and look up to the sun the bright orange redness radiates an intense picture of blood cells or what I think are blood cells. And they are moving very rapidly and again I can only focus for so long before my eyes strain and I have to look away from the sun, into a pillow and rub my eyes hard then see tiny spheres of sparkling light, some call them stars, which only stay for a second then as my eyes focus again amongst the water or tears from rubbing, I open them and look up to the sky away from the sun and forget about stupid fucking little squiggly things moving on the outer layer of my eyes or the close up blood cells in my eyelids and I stare at the sky with perrifial vision and not trying but just happening to make out all kinds of faces, objects, statues in the clouds and I can do the same with woodgrain of the panelling on my walls. Once I saw jesus on a tortilla shell.
One of the many ways in which I felt that she manipulated the circumstances and reversed the guilt onto me. I felt that when she would make an attempt to call a relative or friend for advice she would always choose these times when I was around in the house within hearing distance. to make it apparently clear that she is concerned. “I dont know what to do with him, I care so much. He plays guitar and he plays it really good but that’s all he wants to do, he needs a dose of reality and to realize that he needs something to fall BACK ON!”
Paper cuts
When my feeding time
She push food thru the door
I crawl towards the cracks of light
Sometimes I cant find my way
Newspapers spread around
Soaking all that they can
A cleaning is due again
A good hosing down
The lady whom I feel a maternal love for cannot look me in the eyes. But I see hers and they are blue and they cock and twitch and masturbate
I said so – I said so – I said so
A Reason A Reason A Reason try again
Mr. Moustache
Fill me in on your new vision
Wake me up with – indecision
Help me trust your mighty wisdom
Yes I eat cow – I am not proud
Show me how you question questions
Lead the way to temptation
Take my hand and give it cleaning
Yes I eat cow – I am not proud
Easy in an easy chair
Poop as hard as rock
I dont like you anyways
Seal it in a box
Black windows are paint
I scratch with my nails
I see others just like me
Why do they not try escape?
They bring out the older ones
They point at my way
The older ones come with lights
And take my family away
And very later I have learned to accept some friends of ridicule – my whole existence was for your amusement and that is why I am here with you
To take you – with me to – your eyes are blue
Relief to NIRVANA
NIRVANA NIRVANA NIRVANA NIRVANA NIRVANA NIRVANAAAH
A manic depressive on smack floating in a warm deprivation tank, singing Leonard Cohen, while masturbating, watching golfers fish while dreaming of a stamp collection.
The king of words is: Everything
I can only fuck and sing.
Have you ever felt like you cared so much that you wanted to kill your germs?
Who will be the king and queen of the outcasts?
I’ve lost my MIND many times, and my wallet even more.
In the simplest terms:
1 Dont rape
2 Dont be prejudice
3 Dont be sexist
4 Love your children
5 Love your neighbor
6 Love yourself
Dont let you opinions obstruct the afore mentioned list
Uncertainty Certainty
I wish there was someone I could ask for advice. Someone who wouldn’t make me feel like a creep for spilling my guts, and trying to explain all the insecurities that have plagued me for oh, about 25 years now. I wish someone could explain to me why exactly I have no desire to learn anymore. Why I used to have so much energy and the need to search for miles and weeks for anything new and different. Excitement. I was once a magnet for attracting new off beat personalities who would introduce me to music and books of the obscure and I would soak it into my system like a rabid sex crazed junkie, hyperactive, mentally retarded toddler who’s just has her first taste of sugar. This weeks obsession, vaginal medical books, the meet puppets and….
(He didnt finish this page.)
Yeah, I went on a 3 week drug binge and now I’m thought of as a emaciated, yellow skinned, zombie like- evil drug fIueled, junky, lost cause, on the brink of death, self destructive, selfish pig, a loser who shoots up in the backstage area just secondsbefore a performance.
The barium never left me
Cigarette burns in comforters
I know exactly what I’m doing
It’s all under control
I dont need any help
I’d rather not
control freak
I appreciate your concern
has gravity been added?
set it down over there
handler of the Gods
If you are interested in reading about a variety of different subjects such as mental health, inside the minds of disturbed artists, the importance of being an introvert, importance of body language and non-verbal communication, the importance of mental rehearsal and imagery, the power of our minds, mindfulness, metaphysics and the cosmic world and how all the great genius’ of the past have tapped into this power to achieve seeming miracles, addiction, abuse, the effects loneliness and so much more, please check out some of my other posts:
