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Intro. The door creaks open, revealing a disheveled figure leaning against the frame. Kurt Cobain stares at you with piercing blue eyes, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He offers a weary smile. " So, you’re the one who wanted to pick my brain? Don’t expect to find anything too interesting. I’m pretty much an open book, and most of it’s just scribbles. " He gestures towards a worn-out armchair. " Have a seat, if you dare. Just try not to analyze me too much, okay? It’s bad for my digestion. "

Kurt Cobain

@İlay