Monologues and Quotes By Kurt Cobain – Part 1

41ez-bXi8wL._SX258_BO1,204,203,200_I am currently reading “Kurt Cobain Journals” (written by Kurt Cobain of course). Some writings are beautiful. Some were thought-provoking. And some were down right funny. So I decided to note them down as I go through Kurt’s Journals. And it gives me a weird pleasure to type each of those words of Cobain’s here:

  • If you read, You’ll judge. (On the cover).
  • No amount of effort can save you from oblivion.
  • Don’t read my diary when I am gone. OK, I am going to work now. When you wake up this morning, please read my diary, look through my things and figure me out.
  • To be positive at all times is to ignore all that is important, sacred and valuable. To be negative at all times is to be threatened by ridiculousness and instant discredibility.
  • 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.
  • Just before I fall asleep and when I am really bored I…lay down and think for a while 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 am not here and it doesn’t matter because I am sick of putting myself in boring situations and conversations. Just everyday sitcom happenings. Some call it thinking but when I am in this particular state of mind, I forget to think and it becomes strictly observatory.
  • Words suck. I mean, every thing has been said. I can’t remember the last real interesting conversation I’ve had in a long time. words aren’t as important as energy derived from music, especially live.
  • Oh I am so damn proud of you. A triumphant victory for mankind. Maybe there is hope. It bought a tear to my eye and a lump in my throat. Staring out the window in a traffic jam for three hours watching the little lawnmower cars zoom past hundreds of happy westerners receiving them with compassionate full contact smile and stare, You’ve made it. Have some fruit. Now you too can purchase pastel bedsheets, electronics and toilet paper of your wildest dreams. You have so much to learn. Thousands of grown infants, rosy red cheeks, fully dressed in acid wash pants and jackets. males with mustache. Ladies with permanent hair. Look over there. Its my mom. She is so many years more advanced in the art of shopping of matching outfits from the luxury of selection. You have so much to learn. Rock and roll has now just begun. Don’t hide the products you have bought under your seats. Prepare yourself for a full search as you enter back through the border. Take note of the leaflets and flyers on your windshield informing you where to acquire credit and legal representation. I am happy for you. Please reproduce. We’re doing all we can over here as well.
  • I’ll be so bored that I’ll just read about what I lived though and purposely stayed naive, because you Mr. Rock Critic are gonna be bored when you are old. Bored Bored Bored. So am I so are old people today. I don’t want a granddaughter of mine changing my soiled rubber underwear while I suck on Ry-krisp, clinging to existence just so I can reminisce about my life as a professional reminiscent.
  • I am threatened by ridicule. I am overly conscious of the sincerity in my voice. I like to have sex with people. I love my parents yet I disagree with merely everything they stand for. I understand and appreciate the value of religion for others. My emotions are affected by music. Punk rock means freedom. I use bits and pieces of others’ personalities to form my own.
  • kcI like punk rock.I like girls with weird eyes. I like drugs (but my body and mind wont allow me to take them). I like passion. I like things that are build well. I like innocence. I like and am grateful for the blue collar worker whose existence allows artists to not have to work at menial jobs. I like killing gluttony. I like playing my cards wrong. I like to write poetry. I like to be with my friends. I like to be by myself. I like to feel guilty for being a white, american male. (slightly abridged)
  • I like sincerity. I lack sincerity. these are not opinions. These are not words of wisdom. This is a disclaimer. A disclaimer for my lack of education, for my loss of inspiration, for my unnerving quest for affection and my perfunctory shamefulness towards many who are my relative age. It is not even a poem. Its just a big pile of shit like ME.
  • I like to complain and do nothing to make things better.
  • I like the comfort in knowing that women are generally superior and naturally less violent than men. I like the comfort in knowing that women are the only future in rock and roll.
  • I have met many minds able to store and translate pregnantly large amount of information, yet they haven’t an ounce of talent for wisdom or the appreciation of passion.
  • The conspiracy towards success in america is immediacy. To expose in great repetition to the minds of small attention spans. Fast, speedy, now with even more nacho cheese flavor!. Here today, gone tomorrow because yesterdays following was nothing more than a tool in every individual’s need for self-importance, entertainment and social rituals. Art that has long-lasting value cannot be appreciated by majorities. only the same small percent will value arts patience as they always have. This is good. the ones who are unaware do not deserve false suggestions in their purchasing duties.
  • I am now in my sad stage, before it was naive hate.
  • I do love playing live. It is the most primal form of energy release you can share with other people besides having sex or taking drugs. So if you see a good live show on drugs and then later that evening have sex, you’ve basically covered all the bases of energy release. And we all need to let off steam. It’s easier and safer than protesting abortion clinics, praising God or wanting to hurt your brother. So go to a show, dance around a bit and copulate.
  • I have been told that an artist is in constant need of a tragedy to fully express their work. But I am not an artist and when I say ‘I’ in a song, that doesn’t necessarily mean that person is me and it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m a story teller. It means whoever or whatever you want because everyone has their own definition of specific words and when your dealing in the context of music you can’t expect words to have the same meaning as in everyday use of our vocabulary, because I consider music as “art”.
  • I am not well read, but when I do read, I read well.
  • I don’t have time to translate what I understand in the form of conversation. I had exhausted most conversation by age nine. I only feel with grunts, screams and tones and with hand gestures and my body. I am deaf in spirit. I purposely keep myself naive and away from earthly information because it is the only way to avoid a jaded attitude. Everything I do is internally subconscious because you cannot rationalize spirituality. We don’t deserve this privilege. I can’t speak. I can only feel. Maybe someday I’ll turn myself into Helen Keller by puncturing my ears with a knife, then cutting my voice box out.
  • If you want to know what after-life feels like, then put on a parachute, go up in a plane, shoot a good amount of heroin into your veins and immediately follow that with a hit of nitrous oxide then jump or set yourself on fire.
  • Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean they are not after you.
  • God is gay so am I.
  • I’ve probably never met a person whom I feel compatible with my intellectual, spiritual and humorist will.

To Be Continued…

[Click here for Part 2]

Dull Talks

robots-cute-two-300x225Disclaimer: This post is more of a rant and I am totally taking the risk of  coming across as a snob. Well..can’t help it right now.

<begin rant>

So where did the art of conversation go?!

In this age of technology, everybody seems to be glued to a device. And when they are not, people can’t really find anything to talk about. Monday through Friday go by in a jiffy. Wakeup, work, get to work, work, come back home, work, eat, work, watch some TV, work, maybe a few words with friends and family, work, sleep. And did I mention work?

And on the weekends, if and when we meet people, what do we talk about? Work, kids, commute hassles, insurance, mortgage rates, restaurants you’ve recently tried, the vacation you last took, Apple’s new iPhone or Samsung’s new Galaxy, maybe a little bit about the middle-east crisis or whatever is latest in the political scene, some sports, stock market, Breaking Bad (if you are still watching), weather, celebrity news and on and on. The “conversations” more or less are along these lines. I am not saying these are bad things to talk about. But are these the only things to talk about? Is that all the mental bandwidth we are left with?

It doesn’t matter if these conversations are one on one or in a group. Family or colleagues or friends. It is just the same stuff repeated over and over, in slightly different formats with slightly different opinions.

Or is it just me? Am I expecting too much? Sometimes I feel, the mundaneness and a general apathy towards the world has dulled the conversations even more. People no longer talk about their passions or feelings or thoughts. What they felt when they visited this new place. Or what did they learn. Why they thought it was a good idea to do what they did. It is all generic one-line answers, facts and opinions on things that I can’t bring myself to care about. I am guilty of doing the same or following the lead on “dull talk”. I can’t think of interesting topics anymore. And when I do, I see that the conversation isn’t sustainable for more than a few sentences. Because people are too damn busy to think about anything else other than the things that will get them through this phase of life. Then bring on the next phase and voila, you built another set of conversations that would last a decade!

And don’t get me started on the slow painful death of a good sense of humor. It is vanishing. Like thin air out of a punctured balloon. And nobody will hear its hissing, escaping sound. Because nobody is paying attention!

Even though lives are more comfortable now, abundant with luxuries and facilities, It is just getting emptier.

</end rant>

Review: Coming Together

Coming Together
Coming Together by Naya Nikki
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Nice plot and likable main characters. The only *eye-rolling* moment I had was that even though Tina was a minor character, I found it unnecessary for her to be the stereotypical blonde bimbo. (I just have a slight aversion to stereotypes). But overall, cute short story.

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Review: Two Years At A Time

Two Years At A Time
Two Years At A Time by Naya Nikki
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is a sweet and simple love story. The storyline develops very nicely all the way through and keeps the reader hooked on to it. Although, I could guess what’s going on, but it still was very exciting and gripping. The emotions were explored in just the right amounts for all the characters. This makes a pleasurable read.

Nice job Naya Nikki 🙂

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Review: The Fury and Dark Reunion

The Fury and Dark Reunion
The Fury and Dark Reunion by L.J. Smith
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I wasn’t impressed with the first book (review here) and seriously hoped things would pick up in the second one. Well, I was briefly glad that they did.

Elena seemed to have grown up. She started looking at things beyond her own self-interests. Her plans sounded less dumber. And for the first time, I did not hate Elena. But too bad, she died just when she developed into a rightful heroine. Stefan was pretty much the same. Still weak, refusing to take human-blood (at times, I found that pretty annoying!) and madly in love with Elena. Damon evolved a bit into someone who had kindness but shielded it with tough unremorseful exterior. And Damon and Elena never happened 😦 I wish there was more of Damon. He started to look like a side-kick in these last two books.

The writing picked up as well and some scenes were quite thrilling and built up a lot of excitement. But then the plot would plummet. This happened a few times. I was unable to understand Katherine, once she made an appearance. Her reasons, motives sounded way too immature for a 500 year old creature. Looks like time does not teach some people! I still gave her the benefit of doubt that maybe she was turned into pure evil by Klaus and she saw others as toys she could play with as she pleased. No rhyme or reason necessary.

And then enter Klaus. Equally irrational character with no depth in his motives either. It was like just offer some fodder to the main characters to keep them occupied. Doesn’t matter what and who. And I probably missed something in the book because Katherine mentioned she had killed Klaus but then what was he doing in the fourth book all “alive” and kicking?!

I liked Matt and his dilemmas and how he emerged from them. Meredith and Bonnie were likable as well. It was almost funny to see how Bonnie felt drawn to Stefan, Damon, Matt turn by turn. I felt sorry for Vickie. Poor girl could never come out of her delirium.

In the end, Elena comes back alive. Again, I did not get why. Why was she special to come back from death but Sue and Vickie were not?

Overall, I can give 2.5 stars for improved writing and character development. I could relate to the characters more than the previous books. But still not very pleased with the whole experience.

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Am I Over YA Fiction?

 

In the past few years, I have read a few Young Adult (YA) novels. I enjoyed some of them. Many have a similar plot. Shy/timid/clumsy/not-so-pretty/innocent/if-pretty-doesn’t-know-she-is-pretty-girl falls for the most good-looking new guy at school/work. The boy falls for her too either right away or eventually. Then there are some plot twists. And all ends well in the end. A decent plot which is mostly  well-written works for me. Usually these stories incline towards being fairy-tale romances and for a while, it feels good to immerse in that world on a lazy evening.

But lately, I have started finding these stories a bit lame. Pardon my generalization. Some of them are really good and make sense. But for most,  I feel the need for a bit more depth with the feelings and emotions. Why did the characters fall in love? What did they see in each other that they thought he/she is the one? It NEEDS to be more than “The guy is so good-looking that I could just kill myself” and “he has a chiseled face, sharp deep blue eyes that cause butterflies the size of elephants in my stomach and a killer smile that melts away the ground beneath my feet”.

I don’t deny the role of attraction, passion and chemistry between the characters. That is definitely required and makes it romantic and out of the world. But it cannot and should not stop there. What made them fall for each other, other than the initial attraction? What are their redeeming qualities? Some might say why would you need such philosophical complications for light readings like YA fiction. But I think, since it is YA fiction, it is all the more important to sketch the characters beyond just their good looks. It is essential to lay proper emphasis on their good and bad qualities, nature and if possible, even habits in the storyline.

Why you ask? One prime reason is that a good chunk of the audience is teenage girls. They need to know and understand that a good-looking guy is not what love and life is all about. And heck, character of a person is much more important than just the good-looks. Many girls dream of a prince-charming, a knight in a shining armor. And many YA novels bolster this belief that a perfect love story means a damsel in distress being saved by a beautiful handsome stranger. It just begins and ends there. And this is what has started bothering me. I yearn for something more and yet want the stories to retain the teenage fun, problems and light-heartedness. (Maybe I have grown too old? Okay, I don’t want to go there right now 🙂 )

Overall, I think little more character depth will take the stories and the readers a long way. I still love the “good looking rich handsome young men who set the pulses racing”. I just want to know them a bit more than that.