(I’m gonna try to figure out what it says sorry if I get something wrong)
Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complainer. This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 course over the years. Since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embarrassment of your community has proven to be very true. I haven’t fled 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 maniac roar of the crowd begins it doesn’t affect me the way in which it did for Freddy Mercury who seemed to love. Relish in the love and adora lion front the crowd. Which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is I can’t fool you. Anyone if you it simply isn’t fair to you orine. 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 in stage. I’ve tried everything witching my power to 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 yours I’ve had much better appreciation for all the people I’ve known personally and as fans of our music, but I still can’t set 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 had 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, lassing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to 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. 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 se remember. It’s better to burn out than to fade away. Peace love, empathy.
Frances and Courtney, I’ll be at your altar.
Please keep going Courtney.
For her life which will be so much happier without me. I love you I love you!
“The day I dropped out of college I remember lying on my bed, my mother came into my room and she had been crying. She stared at me for a long time and then she said, ‘You only have one shot at life, Georgia, this is no dress rehearsal.’ And I said, 'You know what mom? Maybe I don’t even want to be in the play.’ A month later I was killed. I wonder sometimes if someone was listening.”