He was too beautiful
If you ever copied the lyrics of “No Wrong, No Right” over and over in your teenage journal
If you ever moshed in a pit to “Rusty Cage”
If you ever dubbed a copy of Screaming Life/Fopp from a friend
If you ever hung a photo of a shirtless rock god, arms outstretched, on your dorm room wall
If you ever sang “Say Hello 2 Heaven” with a room full of strangers at 2 am
If you ever argued about who — Cornell or Vedder — had a better voice
If you ever introduced your first born to “Outshined” at full volume while driving in the car
Then you know what it’s like to receive a text today that said:
“He was too beautiful to die.”
He was. He is. We all are.
Cornell. Cornell. Cornell.