Journals by Kurt Cobain
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This book provided quite an intimate peep into the enigma -Kurt Cobain. I was quite amazed at how eloquently Kurt could express his weirdest, deepest and tumultuous of thoughts.
I don’t know if I should say this was inspiring or just plain scary to see how tormented Kurt was?
At times, it was innocently funny and I was actually laughing!
Overall, I am left with an eerie, sad feeling and even after 20 years of his death, it is still a bit hard to wrap my head around it.
PS: I noted down all the monologues and quotes from Journals here: part 1 and part 2
View all my reviews
Monologues And Quotes By Kurt Cobain – Part 1 is here.
- The finest day I ever had was when tomorrow never came.
- I am bad at what I do best.
- You said that I remind you of yourself tomorrow.
- And I swear that I don’t have a gun.
- Thanks to un-encouraging parents everywhere for giving their children the will to show them up and to the white macho american male for reminding the small percent who are capable of recognizing injustice to fight you and earn from your sick sadistic institutional ways. May you rot in the very reason you even bother to stay alive for.
- Have you ever had a day when you were going to find a job then it was already two o’clock, so you just blew it off?
- Yeah I know I am confused uneducated walking cliche but I don’t need to be inspired any longer, just supported.
- I can’t wait to be back at home (wherever that is) in bed, neurotic and malnourished and complaining how the weather sucks and its whole reason for my misery. I miss you Bikini Kill. I totally love you.
- No talent is fully organic. Yet the obviously superior talented have not only control of study but that extra special little gift at birth-fueled by passion. A built in, totally spiritual, unexplainable new age, fucking, cosmic energy busting love for passion. And yes, they are even small percent among the small percent. And they are special!
- No matter what level of intelligence one is on, we all question love and lack of love and fear of love.
- Its good to question authority and to fight it just to make things a bit less boring but I’ve always reverted back to the conclusion that man is not redeemable and words that don’t necessarily have their expected meanings can be used descriptively in a sentence as art.
- And this little pit-stop we call life, that we so seriously worry about is nothing but a small over the weekend jail sentence compared to what will come with death.
- Life isn’t nearly as sacred as the appreciation of passion.
- It’s hard to decipher the difference between a sincere entertainer and an honest swindler.
- If you think everything has been said and done then how come nothing has been solved and resolved?
- After all the hype and ogling over us this past year, I’ve come to two conclusions: 1) We’ve made a better commercial record than Poison. 2) There are quadruple the amount of bad Rock journalists than there are bad rock bands.
- I am not gay although I wish I were, just to piss off homophobes.
- 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 offbeat 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 just had the first taste of sugar.
- I will fight to my death to keep the right to provide for my child. I’ll go out of my way to remind her that I love her more than I love myself, not because it is a father’s duty but because I want to out of love.
- I’ve never taken sides with you or my mother because while I was growing up I had equal contempt for you both.
- Birds. Birds are and always have been reincarnated old men with Tourette’s syndrome having somehow managed to dupe the reproductive saga. They fuck each other and tend to their home repairs and children while never missing their true mission to scream at the top of their lungs in horrified hellish rage every morning at day break to warn us all of the truth. They know the truth. Screaming bloody murder all over the world in our ears but sadly we don’t speak bird.
- The whales respond with their message for us in similar ways, by beaching themselves.
- Theory is a waste of time.
- I can’t sing or play or rhyme. I think that’s just fine.
- I feel compelled to say fuck you, fuck you to those of you who have absolutely no regard for me as a person. You have raped me harder than you’ll ever know. So again I say fuck you although this phrase has totally lost its meaning. FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU.
- If you die you’re completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I’m not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I’ve got.
[Didn’t come across the last quote in his Journals, but including it here because I liked it :)]
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.
- I 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]
Just stumbled. Just woke up.
Before I knew,
I am back in 94.
Can’t get out. Can’t shut out.
It’s too consuming. Too familiar.
Reliving it when its long gone.
Too late or maybe.. too soon.