You and I must be right around the same age. I too was sixteen years old when I heard on the radio that Kurt had died. Bummed me out greatly. Nevermind was one of the first CDs I bought with my own money, and it's easily one of the greatest rock albums of all time.

Back in 2014, one of the local radio stations mentioned it was the 20th anniversary of his death, and man did that make me feel old. It also made me wonder what his life would have looked like had he not died. Forty-seven years old, a twenty-two year old daughter, and god only knows how much more music.

Then again, when the demons get their talons into you, whether it's depression, or drugs, or alcohol, or that special mixture of all three at once, it can be almost impossible to shake them off.

Kurt achieved far more notoriety in his 27 years than any of us reading this will achieve in ours, so rather than mourn his death, I try to celebrate his life by enjoying the gifts he left behind, the poems transcribed from his tormented heart into blood- and ink-stained pages, and the songs that helped define and give voice to a new generation.

See that smiling guy, right there in the middle? That's the Kurt Cobain I think about today. That's how I remember him. I'd like to think he found the peace he sought, and that with the lights out it was less dangerous.