Whispers At The Bus Stop

For a couple of years, we saw each other on almost a daily basis. 

It must have been a year since the last time I saw you.

I knew that back then you just had broken up with your boyfriend. 

I never liked him. He was so immature. He always behaved like if he really believed that he was the smartest guy on Earth. 

I heard that he even stole from you a secret diet formula –on which you worked several years– for his own experiments. He did't give you the credit. It seems that he's also a suspicious guy. 

Then, I saw you in the school yard. You looked so sad. 

You were crying and asking him for another opportunity, or so I thought. 

It was a weird image. 

I knew that you had a bad relationship with your family and that your mom had just kicked you out of her house but I had the impression that you were so indifferent to love...

Maybe, it always was the opposite. 

We never got along and so I don't know why I dreamed about you.

Though sometimes I found you attractive, I never wanted to get close to you.

There was something about your face that I never liked. 

Your big brown eyes didn't fix you enormous lips. 

Also, your eyebrows seemed so rude. Also, your hips seemed so gross. 

Also, I never liked your attitude. You seemed to be sort of hypocrite. 

You seemed to be diplomatic, the kind of girl who tolerated people only for a purpose.

You acted like if you were so fragile and dumb, but you were always thinking how to get what you wanted.

Especially I hated the way you always seemed to underrate me. 
You made me feel like a silly student who had just finished High School. 

I supposed it happened 'cause I was never useful to you.
It was so obvious that you always behaved like if I were some sort of miserable guy to you. How I hated it. 

Gosh, I wasn't a student like you!
You were the one who was studying her last months in College!

In my dream, you wanted us to be in a lonely place. 

Desire reflected in your evil eyes, as you spoke softly to me.
You held my hand and insisted me to leave to a lonely place. 
Your lips shone like a juicy fruit.  

We got in your car.
Streets were empty and immersed in a sordid atmosphere.
You drove across the empty streets. 
It seemed an apocalyptic city.  
It also seemed a Hollywood movie. 
The sun irradiated a yellowish light on the streets.

We got to an old building.
We walked downstairs and stopped on the first floor of the building. 
You started to kiss me so desperately. 
It seemed that your life was over.
You stopped kissing me. 
Your eyes were immersed in desire. 
Your image was so impressive that it looked like if you were ill. 

Then, as a man dressed in a fancy suit came along, you touched my crotch. 
As if his presence didn't mind, you opened your mouth and started to get on your knees...

I woke up wondering "What a hell...!" 

Found About You 

July 23rd, 1993

I'm listening to this show. 
It's hard to realize that it was recorded 26 years ago, on July 23rd, 1993. 

It is surrounded by stories. 

Supposedly, Kurt Cobain overdosed before the show. 
As far as I remember, Krist Novoselic has confirmed it. 

Supposedly, MTV recorded the entire show. 
At least, several clips of the show –including excerpts of Scentless Apprentice, Milk It, Come As You Are and Lithium– appeared soon after, regularly on MTV. 

Fans have been waiting for an official release of this show. 
Paramount Theatre, Reading Festival and Live & Loud –three of the long awaited shows of the short career of Nirvana– were finally released after 30 years or so. 

Rumors about official releases of Hollywood Rock Festival (1993) and Paradiso (1991) appear on almost every Nirvana Fanbase on the internet. 
They seem to be just rumors.

Though From The Muddy Banks Of The Wishkah (1997) includes some rad versions of the most famous songs of the band in soundboard quality and though Krist Novoselic personally listened to entire shows and then selected a bunch of songs –supposedly, he even traded shows on the internet with fans–, it's unlikely that someday, some of these shows be available on its entirety as official releases for fans.  

I hope to be wrong. 

How would it be to have an official Roseland Ballroom release...?
How would it be to have an official release of Nirvana's last show in Seattle, four months before Kurt Cobain's corpse had been found on the greenhouse at his home in Lake Washington...?

On the internet, it's easy to find out several versions of the Roseland Ballroom show. 
Most of them were recorded with lo fi devices. 
People who attended to it, say it was a really intense show. 

Nirvana was about to release In Utero. 
Does anyone imagined that it would be their last studio album...?

The band had recently declared that they refused to make songs in the style of the multi-awarded Nevermind. 
They even had hired Steve Albini and they were so happy with the rough sound of In Utero.

Fans and media were starved for another Nirvana record and they were so impressed by the new songs.  

The recording of the upcoming album was also surrounded by stories. 

Supposedly, Geffen executives didn't like the original album version and so they forced Nirvana to hire Scott Litt to re-arranged a couple of songs –All Apologies, Pennyroyal Tea and Heart-shaped box... 

Supposedly, Radio Friendly Unit Shifter was the way the band made the audience to notice the censure of the record company they were forced to deal with.  

On this show, Nirvana played several songs of In Utero –Very Ape, Milk It, Scentless Apprentice, tourette's... – and they even invited John "Big" Duncan to the stage, to play a few songs as a second guitarist. 

Pat Smear was still not part of the band, but Kurt Cobain had spoken about the need to have a second guitarist to the rest of the band. 

John "Big" Duncan then was the guitar tech of Kurt Cobain. 

Duncan was so close to the leader of Nirvana that he recently has told to the media that Kurt was about to change from Stratocaster to Telecaster and that he wasn't really satisfied with the sound of the Jagstang that Fender had customized for him.  

I'm listening to an incomplete version of the Roseland Ballroom show, but it has soundboard quality. 
It includes excerpts of Scentless Apprentice and Rape Me.
It also includes Blew, School, Aneurysm, Come As You Are, Breed, Lithium and Drain You.

The picture I uploaded to this post, reminds me of one of the volumes of the Outcesticide collection that was illegally released soon after Kurt Cobain's death. 

I bought a bunch of Outcesticides when I was a teenager.

The one I refer to included the extended crazy version of Scentless Apprentice that Nirvana played in Rio de Janeiro in 1993. 

Today, I'm pretty sad and angst. 

I started to write a novel almost six years ago.
I submitted it to a contest a year ago. 
I submitted it to another contest on April. 

Between contests, I reviewed it several times.
This last time, the reviewing process almost made me crazy.
My entire life was devoted to the novel. 
It became some sort of obsession.
I became obsessive-compulsive to it. 

After a couple of weeks on my new job, the University was closed due to a strike.
The strike lasted for three months and I was broke and trying to deal with it, working as if money didn't matter to me.

I was really desperate and frustrated when I reviewed and re-wrote the novel and so I put all of my feelings on it. It might sound stupid, but I put my heart and my rage on it.

The novel has a solid structure. I worked on it for almost six years.
I've been writing since I was born. It's complicated to explain why I'm not another guy writing and pretending to be outstanding. Sometimes I think I really need to make friends with editors. 

The results of the last contest were announced today. 
A woman with 6K followers on Twitter won the contest. 
She also won another contest on the last years. 
She was also involved on some sort of TV show. 

This contest was meant to be for young writers. 
The last year a guy with a high-level scholarship for writers, won the contest. 
I understood that a "young writer" was more close to describe an "unknown writer" than to describe "a writer with few publications", but, maybe, I'm wrong. 

I just want to make it clear: one way or another, one day I will publish this or another novel. 

We Burn And Coil Like Cigarettes

In my dream, we just had moved to a fancy apartment.

It was located on the first floor of a building, a few meters away from the main entrance. 
It looked like one of the buildings I walked by when I was an undergrad and I wanted so badly to live a few meters away from the University. 

One of my teachers lived in there and he just had to walk about five minutes from his apartment to get to the School of Psychology and to start his class at 7 a. m. 

I envied him so much. 

So, it was dark and cold. Maybe it was midnight. 

A couple of elderly women walked thru the parking lot.
They were having some sort of weird business with the guy responsible for the garbage truck. 
They spoke very soft and they behaved mysteriously, like if they didn't want to be seen.  

I looked at them thru a big window in the living room of the apartment. 

Dunno why I decided to speak to the garbage man and I left the apartment and then walked to the main entrance of the building. 

When I arrived to the parking lot, the elderly women and the garbage man just had disappeared. 

I felt confused and I walked back to the apartment. 

As soon as I was about to close the door, I heard an awful scream.

It came from a woman. She desperately asked for help. 
In my dream I knew that she was my neighbor and that her apartment was next to ours.
Also, suddenly I knew that she had been playing ouija on the last days and that she had invoked some sort of demon and that now she was scared to hell. 

It happened so fast. 
As soon as I got scared from that desperate screams and I was closing the door of the apartment, she ran in front of me as she wanted to get to the main entrance of the building. 
She had a spooky face. 

Behind her it was some kind of steamy monster. 

It seemed both a horseman of the Apocalypse and Marilyn Manson. 

It stared at me for a second and I felt it was about to kill me. 

I closed the door of my nightmare, before I froze. 

I woke up hyperventilating.

My wife told me that I was making horrible noises like those horses do when they're frightened and about to run like crazy.