You can call me a conspiracy theorist if you want, but there are wide open possibilities that Kurt Cobain did NOT commit suicide, but was murdered! Today is April 5, marking 20 years since his death, and new evidence has come to light that has stirred up a shit storm on the internet.  (http://music.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=859582)

New evidence has surfaced regarding the death of Nirvana’s front man Kurt Cobain in the form of crime scene photos. Now I hate the fact that all of them are not here, not that I want to get off on gore or grisly images, but I feel that people that haven’t given up on Kurt’s case yet deserve 100% of the picture of his death. I feel that not the entire crime scene set of photos is present on this website, and some of the ones that are here are cropped to show only part of the image. Here is a link to the site.
http://www.cbsnews.com/pictures/new-kurt-cobain-death-scene-photos/
Also shown is the “suicide” note left by Cobain with a pen shoved through the middle of it. On a separate website, (http://kurtcobainssuicidenote.com/kurt_cobains_suicide_note_scan.html) 

there is a scanned picture of the note so it can be seen better. At first I found it odd that there was no hole in the middle of the scanned image, It’s possible that they could have taken steps to mend the paper for the purposes of scanning it, but also wasn’t able to avoid the dark wrinkle lines across the letter. The next thing to be noticed it the part of the letter that points to it being a suicide note, the bigger font at the bottom of the paper. Tom Grant, a private investigator hired by Courtney Love (Cobain’s widowed wife) theorizes that the last few lines were written by someone other than Cobain. Sending just the photocopied letter to 4 handwriting experts, only 1 out of 4 of them was certain that the whole letter was written by Cobain, the other 3 found inconclusive evidence to the possibility it was just one writer. (http://kurtcobainssuicidenote.com/kurt_cobains_death_theories.html) 

Back the recently released evidence conspiracy theorist, Richard Lee, is suing the Seattle Police department saying “the shots should have been released years ago to aid the investigation into the tragic Nirvana star's death 20 years ago.” Which I unreservedly agree with him that if there was evidence withheld or excluded from the investigation, the investigation shouldn’t be done with, thousands of Nirvana fans, including myself, would like to see a re-launch of the investigation with detectives that are biased to the opinion that he was just “a suicidal heroin addict” reanalyzing all of the evidence pertaining to the death of Kurt Cobain. (http://music.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=860856)

Now I could write all day on theory’s on Cobain’s death and the “convenience” of some of the investigative studies that shy away from the possibility that Cobain was murdered. Like the 4 sets of prints taken off of the shotgun, but wasn’t legible to the current systems. Or that Cobain’s lawyer mentions him wanting to cut Courtney Love out of his will because she (Love) had mentioned she wanted to file for a divorce. And finally the fact that Kurt Cobain, who had recently checked out of rehab, had apparently relapsed and was high during the time of his death. There was evidence of heroin and valium in his system and his blood/heroin level was 1.52 milligrams per liter. Tom Grant feels that he could not have injected himself with that much heroin and still be able to pull the trigger.

Report is still set that Cobain killed himself with a shotgun blast to the head. There are mountains of evidence that may be inconclusive, but I feel that it is enough to consider the possibility of homicide. Please research the subject yourself. You will find pretty quickly that this is a story that deserves a true ending than a rushed conclusion that “he must have just shot himself.”

“Nobody dies a virgin, ‘cause in the end,

life fucks us all” –Kurt Cobain.  

This is some "homework" that I had to do for the therapy class I'm court ordered to attend. I figured since this is a site to express feelings and emotion, I thought it would be good to show you some of the past my feelings derive from. Enjoy...

Someone upstairs seems to think that new tricks need to be learned… I just don’t know if I can handle it. I have been facing things I never knew I was
ill prepared for, things that attack me from the inside out. It’s a vicious cycle that feeds itself, and it scares me. 

DEPRESSION brought on this unfitting title that has been bestowed upon me as “Sex Offender”, the feeling that I can’t be with my family in state owned places, i.e. Parks, lakes, etc.. My stepbrother was visiting from Korea and brought his little baby girl over to the states for the first time, and they had a birthday party in the park for her. Everyone was invited, not everyone was legally allowed to attend. I stayed home. My little brother came home and told me the story of the fun they had in the park with water balloons and things. He ended the story with, “You should have been there.” I don’t hold that against him, my little brother you see, views the world from a different set of eyes. He is autistic (as much as I like to argue the fact) and cannot / will not understand my situation, so I
can’t put what he said against him. It didn’t stop it from hurting though.

ANXIETY from running into people in public I don’t wish to run into or want to know about my situation. It is incredibly to apply for jobs and explain to them that I am a registered sexual predator and not to think too much into it because it’s not true. People who know me know I’m innocent, but people who I just meet… all they are going to see is that title. Word will get around, as it always does, and people thinking they can make the world a better place by putting forth some vigilantly justice by doing whatever they can to put my “Pedo/ChoMo ass in prison where it belongs”. This has never been said directly to me, but being in jail in a cell with other offenders, and by being in a
sexual offender therapy group, I hear people going through it all the time. I want to avoid it at all costs. Right now that means never leaving my room. I
just recently found out that I can’t hear a verdict being read without going into an anxiety lockdown. Zimmerman just recently got found not guilty on his
case, and I had been following his proceedings for a while, and wanted to see the end of it. So, I got online and looked up the video that talked about it,
and in that video his verdict is read. Even though it was not guilty, hearing a member of court read that out send my mind racing. It got incredibly difficult
to control my breathing, and started crying my eyes out, out of fear. I was scared. I couldn’t figure out why, or from what, but crying into a towel as hard
as I could seemed to be the only thing that I wanted to do. I didn’t know for sure what triggered it, until a few days later when my Mom was watching “Malcolm X” and they read off his verdict to him at the end of the movie. I got up and headed for my room upstairs to compose myself. I didn’t break down like before,
but it was a similar feeling. I’m not sure of anything beyond that, but for now I want / need to avoid court proceedings in the media and in movies. 

PARANOIA, every time I’m out in public, I feel like everyone hates me. I’m smart enough to know that isn’t true, but the brain is a funny and complex
organ. Logic is melting around me as if I’m in a surrealistic painting. I take feelings as fact without weighing logic or reason. I feel like if I start
filling out applications, people will start making their own assumptions about me and shape me into a person I’m not. I am an incredibly romantic and flirty
person, and with all of this going on, it discourages me from any of that. Not just legally, but mentally as well. If I have sex with a woman, out of love or
lust, I have to turn her name into the sheriff’s office. So, out of respect for, whoever, I refrain from it. God knows I could use a companion to help me cope
with all of this. I have a few friends that are there for me, and I am thankful for that, but I don’t want to selfishly monopolize their time for my issues. I
thank God for my friend Tori, she has been with me in this from square one. I wrote and called her in jail and it helped me out more than I feel she will ever
know. She is the closest thing I have to a “companion” in the sense of having someone to unload everything to. She usually gives me good advice and it helps,
but there are things that have happened to me that are hard to describe. I have feelings that sit in my chest to go unrecognized, because they are foreign to
me. I get them every time I’m in public. It feels as if the world is watching and misjudging everything I do. This last court visit, the judge has ordered me
to start looking for a job and handed me a green sheet to fill out to return to him in the next month. I am now being forced to act, to find a job even though
all of this. I have attempted to explain to the judge my issues, but I suppose the states hunger for money is greater than his “give a fuck” for my issues. 

So, I get thrown into a Depression, which results in me sleeping for 12 hours a day, and then it gets to a point to where I need to go somewhere to shop
or eat. Public interaction puts me off, and I start to think that everyone is gunning for me; I get scared that I’m going to run into Bill and / or Mindy in
public. So Paranoia feeds my Anxiety, and it leads me to staying inside for another 4 or 5 days straight, where I sit in depression because my life isn’t
the way it should be.

As for my “Through Loss, Gain, and Questions Unanswered” story, I WILL finish it. It just seems every time I get into the story, that same feeling
comes up that came up with the verdict reading, and I have to stop for a while. So I promise it will be finished, I want my story told.



My sister needs help cleaning downstairs, so I will end this here. Until next time. 
  

"Save me
Even as you break me
Every time you rape me
Leave me
coming all undone
Praise me
Turn your back and hate me
Every time
you waste me
Keep me underneath your thumb"
--Seether, Holding onto Strings Better left to Fray.


This is a venting blog. If it seems like a random stream of thoughts and ideas, that’s because it is.


The easily offended, the super religious and judgmental pricks…
you might as well go read something else. This is going to get
rough.


Depression is a BITCH!
It is a pool of tar, and the deeper you
get in it, the more of a hold it has on you. For those of you keeping up with my blog, (because I’m sure there is just so many of you, hi ani) you should be in the middle of my Blog entries “Through Loss, Gain and Questions Unanswered”. It is understandable to be in a state of depression after going through all of that. The part of the story I haven’t gotten to yet, and eventually I will, is that I have four years of probation, there are a lot of ridiculous guide lines to follow, I am ordered to attend Sexual Offender Therapy Classes, as a felon and a registered sex offender, I cannot find a job, but alas I have over $1500 in court fees and fines, if they are not paid on a normal basis, I go back to jail, if I step off the path of these ludicrous rules I must follow, I go back to jail, if someone wants to fuck with me, and knows I am a registered sex offender, all they have to do is cry wolf, and I go back to jail. Life for me, for the first time, is run by paranoia. Never have I been so stressed or unsure of what I have control of and what I don’t. So yeah, I’m a bit depressed. To add to the misery, my mother felt it necessary to inform me that because I didn’t listen to her in the first place, that “those people are not good people, you don’t need to hang around them” is why I ended up in jail. If I had listened to her, this wouldn’t have happened. Just like when she told me that being with my Ex-fiancé, Whitney, was a mistake and she was right that is wasn’t going to work out. That if I just start listening to her my life wouldn’t be in the MOTHER FUCKING TAR PIT! Thank you so very FUCKING mush for bringing up the two most poignant failures in my damn life. That was just the word of encouragement I needed to get through this new depression, was telling me all about my old depression. Thus creating a mixture of super hybrid depression, that is just dandy.


FUCK!!!


I can’t live a normal life anymore. I can’t be me. I have to be
someone else, a fucking pedophile in the eyes of the court, a felon, stressed,
paranoid, angry, and to top it all off, I can’t be a normal brother anymore
because of this shit. My little sister came home early from hanging out with
friends, but I was home by myself, and I can’t be alone with anyone under 18 per court order without someone over 18 with me. So I had to go outside and walk around for almost 2 hours until someone came home. THAT IS FUCKING BULL SHIT!! 

The other day, we had a yard sale at my grandmother’s house, and
a chick pulled in the driveway next door, she had just moved in next door to my grandma. I walked over and started talking to her, she told me she had heard of me, and not only heard of me, she seemed to be a bit interested in me. She is cute, short, and kinda thick, which is always nice. Has a dark sense of style like me, we talked for a little while. She started flirting with me, and I returned the sentiment by being funny and charming. Ha-ha, she went in her house and brought out pretzel M&Ms and gave me some. I definitely would like to get to know this chick more.

But…

My step-father pulled me aside and informed me that I am a registered sex offender, and I don’t know her. She could do something that would put me in jail. And he thinks that I need to tone it down. 

FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC


Thank you so much court system, thank you so much 12 mother fucking jury members for not looking into what this would do to me and my life and running to that damn guilty verdict like a diabetic after penicillin. THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH, you lazy ass, overconfident washed up, washed out pathetic excuse of a lawyer. I don’t doubt that at one time, when it was convenient to you and your career, that you were a good lawyer, but when everybody, EVERYBODY, that has ever had you as a public defender tells me that you have fucked them over, that tells me you don’t give a shit anymore, you are sitting back and soaking in those state checks, you pompous, arrogant, bowlegged bastard. You are lucky I was raised to be a morally driven man; otherwise I would have hit you in your fucking mouth for calling me an idiot. It must do wonders for your practice to cuss people out. I bet it makes you feel 10 feet tall huh? You fucking prick.  


I can’t be a normal older brother, I can’t meet new people, I can’t be romantically involved with anyone without having to report it to the fucking sheriff’s office, I have been forcefully introverted, and my outgoing
personality has been chained. I am restricted from lakes, parks, public pools. I have to have a babysitter everywhere I go. I am in a box, stamped with the court seal.


Yeah, life for me is just wonderful; I get to be the model citizen, minus some.

Time likes to toy with me, it may you as well, but it seems that
when I am in a position to need to do something of worth, I am in a spot to
where I can’t get done what needs be. Time then chooses to drag on as if adding
sand to the top part of the hour glass. When I am DOING what needs to be done,
the hour glass then gets shattered completely and time lapses making an hour
feel like minutes. I regret to inform you that I again have no blogs to post. I
will work on them in my spare time, which seems to be a rarity these days, until
then, cheerio.

Well, I have returned.
The full story on my 7 month adventure will be posted later, but for now, just a quick Mind Spew just to get back into the swing of things again.
I do have some blogs in storage, so to speak, that I may post later. So much is on my mind, I have always been praised for my ability to handle situations in such a humble, calm way, but I hadn't seen it untill just resently. I wouldn't have, if I didn't have others to compare myself to. When you're locked up in a room 24/7 with the same people with little to none outside influence, you see things a hell of alot clearer than you normally do. I am paying attention to more than I normally did, (which was quite abit to begin with) I also tread in the public eye more carefully. I was never one to worry about public image. Infact, I would argure that individuallity is scarce in this world, go and burn the world down with your style and additude. In some ways, I still think that way, but I am learning to moderate it. It took the view of 12 people to see me the way my friends see me, and I'm not sure why, but they didn't. It bothers me. I can say that I am a truly nice guy, I try hard to follow the lines of morallity, and common decency, but something, still not sure what, put me out to be this monsterous person that 12 saw capable of performing such a horrable act. Something unfathomable in action, but not entirely void of being party of. I have had Family and friends in similar acts of cruilty, I wouldn't wish this pain on anybody, let alone do it myself.
I may be a big, hairy, loud guy... but I'm no monster...

I will write more later, my mother has completed her buissness, and we are leaving the Wi-Fi.

Will write again soon.... very soon...

[On a note to my Blog readers, i wrote what is seen below out of a fit of depression, sorrow, and self pity. A buddy of mine, halfway thru this blog, talked me out of depression by a simple thought. "What do you do with sinking ships?" well if your on a ship, and its sinking you, "Get the fuck off of it". If you are "sinking" into depression over someone as stupic as my Ex, get the fuck off the ship. None the less, i will post what i have of this blog, with a quick written ending to cap my thought. If you was into this story and would like to know more, im sure i wouldnt have a problem telling you the rest in better written format.]


Love is a Burning Feeling.
Its warm, soothing, comforting, and said to be the most powerful emotion. It makes people do the craziest things they normaly hadn't the courage to do before. Once, I had my own living love story. The kind you only see in books, in fact i couldn't of wrote out this story better myself. Even with all the hindsight, as crazy as it sounds, i wouldn't change a thing. I found love in a friend, or rather it found me, and we both held onto each other like nothing else mattered, and to be honest, nothing did. It got to point that her father forbade me to ever see her again. We worked together so it was difficult to follow his wishes. It also became difficult for us and out forbidden love that we longed to touch each other every quiet moment in the back room, but knew if we gave ourselves an inch, we would just stare and wish for that mile. Her father was in the process of ruining his own life during all of this, for he was planning to run away with another woman and leave his family. So it didnt matter what havoc he reeked, he was going to be gone soon. Love being as powerful as it was, pushed her and I together closer than anything I felt before. We started seeing each other after work, we would drive to my house and stand in the doorways for hours, or sit in her car and talk about life. It was here we had our first, peck i guess you could call it, it wasnt a kiss, more of a childish lock of lips than a kiss. Our hearts filled with wonderment as we stared at eachother after our lip connection. The song that was playing on the radio became "our" song (as every good love story should have) and it was Aerosmith's "Don't Want to Miss A Thing". A fitting song for our situation, then we continued to talk, poke fun and laugh. This went on for quite awile, untill we found out her father had been sending friends to spy on her and her car to make sure we wasn't spending time together. She became very scared of her father, and also very parinoid of every move she made. We started talking on the phone instead of texting, so that if she had forgot to erase messages, her father wouldn't find them. One night that came to bite us back for her family had a minute plan for their phones, and we had been talking for quite alot of "minutes". All of this was no knowlege of mine, I was on a unlimited plan, and there was a night when she fell asleep on the phone, and i just listened for a while. You can call me creepy all you want, I was in love, and longed to have her heart beating next to mine. Chest to Chest, one being. As I listened to her slumber, I nodded off as well. When I woke the next morning both phones was still connected, I thought nothing of it, and hung up. It wasn't untill her father got the bill he realised what was going on, and he personally got on the phone with me, and told me, "If you get near my daughter again, if you call her, text her, or even touch her, I will call the police and have your sorry ass thrown in jail". Now, at the time, he thought I was 24, when in reality i was 18, I had just graduated High School. His daughter tho was 16, about to be 17. So, i went to work, to find my new love teary and red eyed. She told me she wouldn't be working there long because her father was making her quit. That night i caught a ride home from a friend, and when i got to my room I got a phone call from her. I answered, and she told me she wanted to leave something on my Voicemail, and not to answer when she called back. What she had to say she couldn't say to me personally, and so she wanted to talk to my voicemail. I agreed, hung up, and let her call back. As the phone rung my mind begin to fill with fear, my heart grew heavy. As the ring ended, I waited, almost like a horse in a race gate, for the sound of my voicemail ring. Then it rang. My fingers went cold and the air stood still. I called my voicemail box, and in the message I could hear her fighting back tears...... and she sang. "I don't wanna close my eyes, i don't wanna fall asleep cuz i miss you baby, and i dont want to miss a thing, cuz even when i dream of you, the sweetist dreams will never do i still miss you baby... and i dont want... to miss a thing....................I Love you" Then she ended the message. I must have replayed that message as many times as there was tears sinking into my pillow. When the phone died and i hadnt the strength to stand up, I got into my pocket and Listend to that song on my MP3 player on repeat for the next 6 hours. When I went to work the next day, she wasn't there, I didn't hear from her for quite awlile. It was almost a gift from God when her father was found out about his plans to run away, and his family kicked him to the curb. Hence lifting the "daughter ban" and bringing me and her together again.

[As stated above, i will write a quick ending to cap the idea i was going for]

Well, we did get back together, as my mom moved out of state i stayed to be with her, we faired quite well for awhile. We ended up being each others 
firsts on quite a number of things, including sex. On November 5th I asked her to marry me. It wasnt a sole decition mind you, i was kinda pushed into the situation. she was getting bitchy that we knew we was getting married, but didnt have a ring to show off to family and friends. after our engagment, we got an appartment together, and months later i have discovered two things, 1) that she nolonger wanted to be with me, 2) that she was texting other men on a moble website getting and sending naked photos. I was crushed and heartbroken. so I ended the engagement, the relationship and ultamently the friendship. she returned to get her things in a fit of rage and destroyed the appartment. haha i like to tell in my stand up bit what she took when she went with her, because its rather funny. She took the Silverware, the shower curtain.... and the toilet seat. haha. She left, and then came back to claim partnerd dominion over the appartment, so I left. That is what landed me in the awesome state of Illinois *gag*. whilst I was up in the Land o Lincolin, my stuff sit vunerable in a shed down south. Easily broken into and just as easily destroyed and broken, I owned nothing anymore. I had lost my life in Texas, my Love, and my possetions. For two years my soul, my mental state, and my physical state was trashed. I was a mess.
Love is a Burning Feeling.
Its hot, sournful, and leaves a remarkable, permanate scar. It has been proven to me to be the most powerful emotion. It makes people do the craziest things they normaly hadn't the courage to do before. Once, I had my own living love story... Once....

Well, I have been on many websites that involve an avatar and a chat room...
IMVU, Gaia... but this one is on the creepy level for me when it comes to MMO
chat. Second Life is an MMO, where you can create an avatar, cool, you can hunt
monsters, great, you can chat with people all over the world, awesome, but you
can also get Paid to be some ones 5 year old child?? Taking role playing to a
whole other level, i created an account on the wishes of a cousin of mine. and
while i was going thru the difficult process of creating my avatar, im told i
must look good if i want to be hired... yes you can hold a job on this site. As
i sit there on the virtual couch, i watch as this "little girl" being controlled
by an adult (and i know this because Second Life is age restricted) biting other
avatars, acting childish, and being scolded for doing wrong.... where the hell
is the "creepy" line set for in this crap. As i looked into it you can role play
anything from buying a hooker and having sex with her, to doing time in a
prison, and something i just recently found out... your avitar and get pregnate, carry the child full term, as in a full nine months, and if you dont care for yourself right you can have complications in pregnacy... WTF is that... This game, correctly titled, IS a second life for most of these die
hard players. I am also informed it is improper edict to talk about your "FL"
(First Life, a.k.a. your living breathing, reality life) in second life, that
its better to keep it separate... can anyone else smell a psychotic break or
meltdown in the making?? i enjoy the humor and i enjoy the conversation... but
please beat me in the head with a pipe if i ever THINK about treating this
"Second Life" as a real situation. This is just outrageous. God help those
stuck, and sucked into this virtual world...