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In May 2013, I organized a suicide note creative writing workshop.

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Growing up, I would hear the same line constantly: “Our family had a history of mental illness and depression, and that’s why this or that happened.”

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Who said death had to be this morbid. If you’re crying, please stop. What if my death is a glorious celebration? Could you celebrate it for me?

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This is the account of an intelligent, lucid man who knew perfectly well what he was doing and did it with the intent of leaving a minimum amount of pain or confusion.

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Kurt Cobain died when I was 8. It would be a few years before I’d become completely engulfed by his music and by his celebrity in general; but when that happened, I was utterly obsessed with him – particularly, his death.