I would still like to hear Curt Cobain's voice sprinkled with emotion. His questions are still relevant, even after his death.

Jesus. Doesn't anyone see how much I am hurting and how grotesque I feel? Nothing is right. The world is at war; I have too much; I feel like shit; I am up all the time; I can't keep a job; I am a loser. I don't think all the prescription drugs are helping.

I have no poetry left in me. Perhaps I never had it. I don't know, and I don't even know if I care anymore.

There are so many people in the world, and sometimes I feel like I want to go out and make a difference....help just one....send in that eighty cents a day to sponsor a child or send money (that I don't actually have) for something good.

What else should I say? ....what else should I write; I don't have the right. What else should I be? All apologies.

I cannot stop thinking about death, and I find myself wondering about Nirvana, other suicidal people like Virginia Wolff, movies, songs, lyrics, books, and my friends. I am so confused. I don't want to live. I wish my heart would explode. Then my family wouldn't feel like they were to blame because who can help a heart? Although....

my heart is broke, but I have some glue