Dear Courtney Love,
I know what you did last summer.
Well, not last summer, but a while back. A great many of us do, to be honest. We chose to ignore the obvious for a while because it felt more romantic this way. The suicidal rock star retreats to his home in Pacific Northwest at the height of his fame and shuns it all by blowing his brains out. Even right down to his age of 27, it all felt very rock n’ roll, so we just rolled with. Didn’t hurt that the last song he recorded was called I Hate Myself and Want To Die. Thing is, you don’t have to pull the trigger to be the cause of someone’s death, Love. You can slowly break them with your words and actions, and drive them to it. That is no different then putting the gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger yourself. Same end result. A man is dead because of you.
And guess what? More and more people are slowly becoming aware of this. I hope you can sense those shadows looming in around you right now. They’re coming for you, Courtney Love. You can only keep the shadows and demons at bay for so long. Time to clean out your closet and it’s safe to assume we’re about to find a gaggle of skeletons, all donned in flannel.