Load up on drugs and kill yourself

Cobain is cast as the tortured lightning rod for a generation’s pain, so he sprawls on the floor and screams into the mic almost constantly. But this is not pain, it is a simulacrum of pain offering neither visceral thrills, insight, poetry nor catharsis. It is like watching a tantrum.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT HEY
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT HEY
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
HEY
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT HEY
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT
YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT

RAPE ME. RAPE ME, MY FRIEND!

>AAAHHH MY PARENTS GOT DIVORCED, I'M GOING INSAAANEEEE
what the fuck was gen x's problem?

GRANDMA TAKE ME HOME...
GRANDMA TAKE ME HOME...
GRANDMA TAKE ME HOME...
I WANNA BE ALONE...!

Your fortune: Good Luck