You've taught me everything without a poison apple.
It seems for the past couple years I’ve drifted further and further away from Nirvana, and the person I once was. Kurt Cobain was once a hero, Nirvana was once my favourite band, but now, I don’t know. I’ve been too preoccupied with the new and unexplored that I forgot my past and the person and the band that made me the person I am today.
Every April 5th I’m filled with remorse, wistfulness and grief. What ifs and I wishes and if onlys race through my mind until I want to choke on my thoughts. And then for the rest of the year, it’s put out of my mind. Nirvana? I’ve listened to them since I was four, I’ve experienced it all. Nightwish? Now that’s another matter.
But listening to the albums over the past couple weeks has show me exactly how wrong I was. Every listen brings new memories and new feelings and new revelations. I know nothing. I feel like a child once more, grasping for words to express the emotions that wash over me.
This year is going to be my Nirvana year. This year is going to be my musical awakening. This year is going to be my self discovery. What better way to find myself than to go back to my roots?
This year I will stop looking at Kurt Cobain as a hero or someone to be worshipped. Kurt would hate me for it, anyways. No, this year Kurt Cobain will be my inspiration and my mentor. I will not dwell on what could have happened, but instead what did happen. I will celebrate instead of mourn. I will sing rather than cry.
I didn’t cry once today. Is that a testament to my promise? Or has thirteen years of crying dried up my tears? I did sing, though, and I laughed, and I stood up for my beliefs in a demonstration downtown.
It’s better to burn out than to fade away. And it’s better to act than remember.
Every April 5th I’m filled with remorse, wistfulness and grief. What ifs and I wishes and if onlys race through my mind until I want to choke on my thoughts. And then for the rest of the year, it’s put out of my mind. Nirvana? I’ve listened to them since I was four, I’ve experienced it all. Nightwish? Now that’s another matter.
But listening to the albums over the past couple weeks has show me exactly how wrong I was. Every listen brings new memories and new feelings and new revelations. I know nothing. I feel like a child once more, grasping for words to express the emotions that wash over me.
This year is going to be my Nirvana year. This year is going to be my musical awakening. This year is going to be my self discovery. What better way to find myself than to go back to my roots?
This year I will stop looking at Kurt Cobain as a hero or someone to be worshipped. Kurt would hate me for it, anyways. No, this year Kurt Cobain will be my inspiration and my mentor. I will not dwell on what could have happened, but instead what did happen. I will celebrate instead of mourn. I will sing rather than cry.
I didn’t cry once today. Is that a testament to my promise? Or has thirteen years of crying dried up my tears? I did sing, though, and I laughed, and I stood up for my beliefs in a demonstration downtown.
It’s better to burn out than to fade away. And it’s better to act than remember.