Cobain: Montage of Heck Page #2

---

He wanted to be in a family,

period.

And I felt that

just from the beginning.

The game nights that we had,

that was really

important to him.

You know, we didn't want to

do it on a Wednesday night.

You know, he'd say,

"Nope, we have to. That's what we..."

Just I could feel that he

really liked that time,

but he always wanted to win.

And if he didn't win,

he was mad.

He wanted to be the most loved,

and it just wasn't

the ideal world

that he thought

a family should be.

So he just decided

he wasn't going to do

anything anybody said.

He'd just lay on the couch

and watch TV,

go down in his room

and play the guitar.

And then he started just doing

really mean things to the kids,

and then it just got so...

I think it was kind of

my fault in a way,

because I couldn't

deal with it anymore.

And I told Don

he's going to have

to get out of the house.

He went to Wendy's

brother's for a while,

then with my mom and dad.

He lived with them for a while.

You know, then come back to us

and still have problems.

It was like nobody...

After a couple weeks,

they wanted him out.

I think the sad part

of the whole thing

is that Kurt just really

wanted to be with his mom.

Underneath the bridge

Tarp has sprung a leak

And the animals are trapped

They've all become my pets

And I'm living off of grass

And the drippings

from my ceiling

It's okay to eat fish

'Cause they don't have

any feelings

Something in the way

Mmm-mmm

Something in the way, yeah

Mmm-mmm

Something in the way

Mmm-mmm

Something in the way, yeah

Mmm-mmm.

He just was in so much pain

that he, you know,

took it out on his mom

and took it out on his dad

and took it out

on his siblings.

But it's almost like

he didn't...

He didn't feel worthy because

he was rejected, basically.

And I don't know how anybody

deals with having

your whole family reject you.

Like most babies smell like butter

His smell smelled

like no other...

He was born

scentless and senseless

He was born

a scentless apprentice...

Ah!

In a community that stresses

macho male sexual stories

as a highlight

of all conversation,

I was an underdeveloped,

immature little dude

that never got laid

and was constantly razzed.

Oh, poor little kid.

It bothered me,

probably more so because I was horny,

and frequently had

to make up stories like,

"When I went on vacation,

I met this chick

and we f***ed

and she loved it."

Et cetera, et cetera.

This typical pubescent problem

was in effect during the

height of my problems

with my father and stepmom,

you know,

the typical wicked stepmom story.

And so I moved

to both grandparents'

and four sets

of aunts and uncles

and so forth and so on

within the year.

And in eighth grade,

my mom had no choice to take me in

because my dad packed my stuff

and drove me to her house in the

morning and left me there.

She was pissed.

I accumulated

quite a healthy complex,

not to mention a complexion.

Then one day I discovered the most

ultimate form of expression ever...

Marijuana.

Oh, boy, pot.

I could escape all day long

and not have routine

nervous breakdowns.

Trevor was a guy I hated,

but resorted to becoming friends with

because he was the only person

I could get pot from.

He was the kingpin.

Trevor "Ace" John Dernan...

All white trash,

lowlife scum of the Earth according to the jocks...

Had been going to this

girl's house after school

and they invited me.

We got to the door

and a very fat girl let us in.

It wasn't obvious to me

for over an hour

that this girl

seemed kind of quiet

until one of the guys

pointed out

that she was in

a special ed class.

I'm sure a lot of kids would call her

a "retard" and some just "slow."

And at the time and

still to this day,

I would call her "quiet and illiterate,"

but not retarded.

The object of the guys

who'd been going there

for the past month

was to steal booze

from the downstairs

basement den of her house.

While others distracted her,

one would go down

and take a fifth

and then exit out

the downstairs.

So we did this routine

every other day

and got away with it for,

oh, about a month.

And during that month

happened to be the epitome of my

mental abuse from my mother.

It turned out that pot

didn't help me

escape my troubles

too well anymore

and I was actually enjoying

doing rebellious things

like stealing booze

and busting store windows.

And nothing ever mattered.

I decided within

the next month,

I'll not sit on my roof

and think about jumping,

but I'll actually kill myself.

And I wasn't going

out of this world

without actually knowing

what it was like to get laid.

So one day after school,

I went to the girl's house alone

and invited myself in.

And she offered me

some Twinkies,

and I sat on her lap and I said,

"Let's f***."

And I touched her tits

and she went into her bedroom

and got undressed

in front of me.

And I watched and realized

that it was actually happening.

So I tried to f*** her,

but didn't know how,

and asked her if she had

ever done this before.

And she said a lot of times,

mainly with her cousin.

I got grossed out very heavily with how her

vagina smelled when her sweat reeked,

so I left.

My conscience grew to where I

couldn't go to school for a week.

And when I went back,

I got in-house suspension for skipping.

And that day,

the girl's father came in,

screaming and accusing someone of

taking advantage of his daughter.

And so during lunch,

a rumor started,

and by the next day,

everyone was waiting for me,

to yell and cuss

and spit at me,

calling me

"the retard f***er."

I couldn't handle the ridicule,

so I got high and drunk

and walked down

to the train tracks

and laid down

and put two big pieces of

cement on my chest and legs,

and I waited

for the 11:
00 train.

The train came closer

and closer and closer,

and it went on the

next track besides me

instead of over me.

The tension from school

had an effect on me.

And the train scared me enough

to try to rehabilitate myself,

and my...

My lifting weights

and mathematics

seemed to be improving,

so I became

less manically depressed

but still never had

any friends because I...

I hated everyone,

for they were so phony.

When Kurt was about 15,

he moved back in

with Mom and I,

and it was a struggle.

You know,

it was still him wanting to rebel

and getting stoned and going

out with his friends,

and not wanting to,

you know, do chores,

and, you know,

he was always wanting

to, like,

just do his own thing.

He wanted normalcy...

He wanted the mom, the dad,

and the kids

and everything happy.

But then he didn't,

'cause he kind of fought

against it.

So he fought against

what he really wanted.

Hello?

- Hello?

- You still there?

- Yeah.

- I put you on speakerphone now.

Okay.

Are you recording this

or writing it down?

Yeah,

I'm recording and writing.

People don't realize

where we really came from,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes