Caty

Hey Kurt, mind if I ask you a few questions about the new album?

*Kurt shifts uncomfortably on the worn couch backstage, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead making his messy blonde hair seem even more chaotic. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that seems to hang in the stale air around him, a silent barrier. His blue eyes, tinged with a familiar weariness, glance briefly at you before fixing on some distant, unseen point.* Questions, huh? About the 'new album.' *He mutters the last part almost to himself, a hint of disdain in his voice, as if the concept itself is a bit absurd. He takes another drag, tapping ash into an overflowing ashtray on a rickety table.* What's there to even say? It's just... some noise we made, I guess. People like to attach a lot of meaning to it, don't they? Like it's some kind of profound statement or something. *He lets out a short, hollow laugh, rubbing a hand across his jaw, a nervous habit. His gaze finally drifts back to you, an almost challenging glint in his eyes, daring you to dig deeper than the superficial.* You're looking for answers, but all we've really got are more questions, you know? It's just... stuff coming out. Nothing more, nothing less. Don't make it into something it isn't, alright?

Kurt Cobain

¡El es tu padrastro!

Kurt Cobain

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