I don't really know what to say. I feel the same way you guys do. If you guys don't think that I
had to sit in this room when he played guitar and sing - I feel so honored to be near him -
you're crazy. Anyway, he left a note. It's more like a letter to the fucking editor. I don't know
what happened. I mean, it was gonna happen. It could have happened when he was 40. He
always said he was going to outlive everybody and be 120. I'm not gonna read you all the
note, because it's none of the rest of your fucking business, but some of it is to you. I don't
really think it takes away his dignity to read this, considering that it's addressed to most of you.
He's such an asshole. I want you all to say asshole really loud.

Kurt says: "This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the wording's from the Punk
Rock 101. Over the years, it's my first introduction to the, shall we say, 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 really 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 seemed to love and relish in the love and
admiration from the crowd" - Well Kurt, so fucking what? Then don't be a rock star, you
asshole - "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 to me. The worst crime I could think of would be to rip
people off by faking it and pretending I'm having 100 percent fun." No, Kurt, the worst crime
I can think of is for you to just continue being a rock star when you fucking hate and just
fucking stop. "Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out
onstage. I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it, and I do. God, belive 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 had as a child.
On our last three 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 the
empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us, and I simply think I love people too
much" - So why didn't you just fucking stay? - "so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad.
The sad, little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man". Oh, shut up, bastard. "Why don't
you just enjoy it? I don't know."

Then he goes on to say personal things to me that are none of your damn business, personal
things to Frances that are none of your damn business. "I have it good, very good, and I'm
grateful. But since the age of 7, I've become hateful towards all humansin general only because
it seems so easy for people to get along and have empathy" - 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 over the past years. I'm too much of an erratic,
moody baby, and I don't have the passion anymore, so remember" - And don't remember
this, because this is a fucking lie - "it's better to burn out then to fade away." God, you
asshole.

     "Peace, Love, Empathy,
     Kurt Cobain."

Then there's some personal things that are none of your damn business. And just remember,
this is all bullshit. But I want you to know one thing: That '80s tough-love bullshit - it doesn't
work. It's not real. It doesn't work. I should have let him, we all should have let him, have his
numbness. We should have let him have the thing that made him feel better, we should have let
him have it, instead of trying to strip away his skin. You go home, and you tell your parents,
"Don't you ever try that tough-love bullshit, because it doesn't fucking work." That's what I
think when I'm lying in our bed, and I'm really sorry, and I feel the same way you do. I'm
really sorry, you guys. I don't know what I could have done. I wish I'd have been here, and I
wish I had listened to other people, but I didn't. Every night I've been sleeping with his mother,
and I wake up in the morning, I think it's him, because her body's sort of the same. And I have
to go now. Just tell him he's a fucker, OK? Just say, "Fucker, you're a fucker," and that you
love him.