What To Worry About
I feel very strongly against suicide.
However, I think this is very intersting. And distrurbignly relatable, at some points.
It’s proof that people often have it harder than we think they do.
It’s proof that people, even those that we admire and worship, can be messed up and unhappy.
I don’t mean to comment on Kurt Cobain’s life or death. But I think his note puts happiness into perspective.
Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, the ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things. For example when we’re backstage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowd begins, it doesn’t affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seem to love, relish in the love and adoration from the crowd, which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can’t fool you, any one of you. It simply isn’t fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I’m having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I’ve tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do, God believe me I do, but it’s not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. I must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they’re gone. I’m too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasm I once had as a child. On our last 3 tours, I’ve had a much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally and as fans of our music, but I still can’t get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don’t you just enjoy it? I don’t know! I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point where I can barely function. I can’t stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I’ve become. I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along and have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody, baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out then to fade away.
Peace, Love, Empathy. Kurt Cobain.
Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your altar. Please keep going Courtney, for Frances. for her life will be so much happier without me. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU”
Let’s face it: things could be a lot worse right now.
They could potentially also be a lot better (I have yet to meet my millionaire future-husband), but really, I have no reason to complain. Which obviously means I do it all the time. Like, I’m nagging and whining and just generally being a pessimistic little pain in the butt, 24/7. It’s bad, I know. Being pessimistic and a party pooper in your own life just generates a whole bunch of negative energy that no one really needs. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a spoiled brat (most likely) or just my general German-ness that is making me so gloomy, but it has to stop.
So harking back to the wonderful Britt’s V-Day post over at Not Typical But Nothing Special (you should go read it, she’s hilarious), I decided to come up with a list of things that would literally make my life terrible, compared to the perceived suckiness that it is now. Because, you know, silver lining, look on the bright side and all that. I present to you:
“9845619878581278 Ways My Life Could Be Much Worse”
I love this.
Ways My Life Could Be Much Worse; In Fact, Ways My Life Would Be BAD
1) Me, or someone from my family or friends gets gravely ill
2) I don’t have a home / food / water
3) MUSIC STOPS EXISTING!
4) Led Zeppelin, Ella Fitzgerald, Miles Davis, Moby, Muse and Alex Turner have never been born
5) People had no idea they could write books or make films.
6) I’ve never seen cartoons or read comic books in my life.
7) I get 10 cm shorter - STAND TALL, J!! ;)
8) Chocolate no longer makes me happy.
9) I lose my entire collection of approximately 7 million pens.
10) All numbers become ODD NUMBERS. Even numbers are not thing anymore.
Seriously, phew! :)
good advice from Disney
Marilyn was a big supporter of the Civil Rights Movement. Ella Fitzgerald was one of Marilyn’s idols and a major inspiration. However, the Mocambo nightclub in West Hollywood, the most popular dance spot at the time, refused to let Ella perform there because she was black. Outraged, Marilyn told the owners that if they would let Ella perform, she would be there in the front row every time Ella was onstage. She did, and the two became friends.
According to the great Ella Fitzgerald:
“I owe Marilyn Monroe a real debt…it was because of her that I played the Mocambo, a very popular nightclub in the ’50s. She personally called the owner of the Mocambo, and told him she wanted me booked immediately, and if he would do it, she would take a front table every night. She told him - and it was true, due to Marilyn’s superstar status - that the press would go wild. The owner said yes, and Marilyn was there, front table, every night. The press went overboard. After that, I never had to play a small jazz club again. She was an unusual woman - a little ahead of her times. And she didn’t know it.”
“And as we wind on down the road,
our shadows taller than our souls,
there walks a lady we all know
who shines white light and wants to show
how everything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard,
the tune will come to you at last,
when all is one and one is all -
to be a rock, and not to roll “