I hope your 27th birthday is great like Kurt Cobain’s was great

It’s like he buried an axe in my chest. Like, bam, right dead center through my heart. Now, I went ahead and pulled it out, because after a while, it’s like, what can you do? Walk around with an axehandle sticking out of your shirt? No. And but so, I yanked the goddamn thing out but now I’ve got this wound, this great gaping fucking wound that just won’t stop bleeding and I don’t know what to do about it so I just run around showing it to everybody, saying what should I do? And folks are just like, damn, dude, you should do something about that and I’m like I know?! But what?!

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