Kurt Cobain on Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck

“Hey, girl She could bring me I could be more She could be free I don't even care We could be on free She said She said”

“She could have soared with pleasant dreams She could evolve with what I seen She could have been a son She could have sung a song”

“I would give up everything to have good health.  But then again, I'm always afraid that, if I lost the stomach problem, I might not be as creative.”

“I accumulated quite a healthy complex, not to mention a complexion.  Then one day I discovered the most ultimate form of expression ever: marijuana.  Oh, boy—pot!  I could escape all day long and not have routine nervous breakdowns.”

“In a community that stresses macho male sexual stories as a highlight of all conversation, I was an underdeveloped, immature little dude that never got laid and was constantly razzed.  "Oh, poor little kid."  It bothered me probably more so because I was horny and frequently had to make up stories like, "Oh, when I went on vacation, I met this chick and we fucked and she loved it."  Et cetera, et cetera.”

“It turned out that pot didn't help me to escape my troubles too well anymore and I was actually enjoying doing rebellious things like stealing booze and busting store windows.  And nothing ever mattered.  I decided within the next month, I'll not sit on my roof and think about jumping, but I'll actually kill myself.  And I wasn't going out of this world without knowing what it was actually like to get laid.  …  And so, during lunch, a rumour started, and by the next day, everyone was waiting for me, to yell and cuss and spit at me, calling me "the retard fucker."  I couldn't handle the ridicule, so I got high and drunk and walked down to the train tracks, and laid down and put two big pieces of cement on my chest and legs and I waited for the eleven o-clock train.  And the train came closer and closer and closer, and it went on the next track besides me instead of over me.  The tension from school had an effect on me, and the train scared me enough to try to rehabilitate myself, and my—my lifting weights and—and mathematics seemed to be improving, so I became less manically depressed, but still never had any friends because I—I hated everyone, for they were so phony.”