Also hadn't realized at the time I chose the date (no, I swear) that it was so close to Cobain's suicide. All the "holy shit, it's been 20 years" pieces make me think two things: oh God, I am so fucking old, and oh God, he was so young. He was barely twenty-seven! The baby. (Insert inevitable Lehrer's 'When Keats was my age, he'd been dead five years' gag.)
I guess it's a measure of old age that even though I know from the inside what that kind of suicidal pain feels like, it's horrifying now to imagine anyone cutting themselves off that young. But when you're that sick you can't understand that burning out and fading away are the same damn thing, in the end.
