for nearly four days straight with very little sleep. i still looked sweet as hell, but the lack of rest was starting to show on the grunge king.
he told me that one of the best parts of heaven was the sleep.
pillows made of clouds, warmed by the sun, hidden orchestras playing pink floyd and pleasant dreams.
sleeps with the angels, neil young once sang about me, and if only he knew.
with all the activities that go on up there, kurt told me, sleep is an important part.
i like to pop my eyeballs out and put them in the nightstand next to my bed, cuz it can be super bright up there in the mornings.
i asked him if he has slept with any girls up in heaven and he shook his head.
youre waiting for courtney?
thats so romantic.
and silly, shes not gonna make it up here.
what about the Grace of God?
thats her only hope. i pray every day and every night that she will make the cut, but i dont know. i just dont see her getting on her knees for Him and begging forgiveness. she likes to blame, she likes to bitch, she likes to try to turn the tables.
im so sorry to hear that.
and the shame shower? she would find a way to climb up there and strangle some of those baby angels. it wouldnt be pretty.
but still he waits.
dappled dreams and merry widows
chirpy cheers and ice cold beers
floating far above the radar
nothings dumber than day old fears
the lights around your heart’s delightful
i sommersault around your yard
the petty pace of life’s tremendous
but the waiting is the hardest part.