“The only thing that scares me more than space aliens is the idea that there aren’t any space aliens. We can’t be the best that creation has to offer. I pray we’re not all there is. If so, we’re in big trouble.”—Ellen DeGeneres
“It’s sad to think what the state of rock and roll will be in twenty years from now. It just seems like when rock and roll’s dead, the world’s going to explode. It’s already so rehashed and so plagiarized. It’s barely alive now, ya know.. It’s disgusting. Kids don’t even care about rock and roll anymore as much as they used to… as the other generations have. It’s already turned into nothing but a fashion statement and an identity for kids to use as a tool to fuck and have a social life. And at that point, I really can’t see music being of any importance to a teenager, really. I think they’ll use sounds and tones in their virtual reality machines. And just listen to it that way and just get the same emotions from it and go to a party.”—Kurt Cobain. (via nirvananews)
It’s been nearly two and a half months since I wrote a song. Since then, I’ve written three or four short parts that turned into nothing, but I don’t feel any of them are good enough to keep. I’ve stored them in the hope that one day I’ll be able to rewrite them into something that I wouldn’t mind people hearing, but I’m becoming less and less certain that I’ll ever be able to. At first I thought “OK, it’s been a week or so since you wrote a song, maybe you should try something now” but I shrugged it off. “You’ve been longer than this, you’ll get over it”. But what if I don’t? What if when I was between twelve and eighteen years old I was growing up and had loads of hormones of some shit like that and now I’m an ‘adult’ and my brain doesn’t work in the same way? Would I really be happy with how I left it? No. No I would not. I want to write one more song. At least one more. In reality I would like to write for ever, but I could at least deal with one more. But there was no warning. No gentle waining of ideas, no gradual fade into this period of shut-out, I wrote three songs one week, and then the lights went out. Why now? Has my mind suddenly decided to work differently? I don’t feel any different, I’m not depressed, I’m not suffering from any kind of condition, I’m not doing anything differently to before. Fuck it. I’ll just never write anything again and settle for some shit office job.