Colourless Green Ideas Sleep Furiously

If I'm gone when you wake up, please don't cry. If I'm gone when you wake up, it's not goodbye.
Hanson - With You in Your Dreams

Lilian Hutagalung bin Raja Hatuak Jambe Hutagalung meninggal pada hari Jumat, pukul 3 pagi tanggal 16 Maret 2012. Usianya 79 tahun.

Dia keturunan raja. Tapi tidak pernah meninggikan diri.
Dia orang terpandang di Sumatra Utara sana. Tapi dia tidak mendewakan budaya Batak. Hanya ingin menjadi Muslim.

Kalau solat, selalu di mesjid. Dia suka memelihara ayamnya. Dia tidak suka ribut-ribut. Dulu dia kepala sekolah. Waktu aku kecil, gambarku jelek sekali. Lalu dia ajari cara menggambar.

Dia mengajari kakakku matematika. Tapi dia tidak mengerti sejarah kontemporer. Dia tidak mengerti kenapa anak2 zaman sekarang harus diajari sejarah PKI yang belum tentu seperti itu. Dia bilang, "kami  saja tidak mengerti apa yang sebenarnya terjadi saat itu," ujarnya heran dengan keadaan dunia yang semakin aneh.

Banyak hal tidak normal yang terjadi dalam hidupku. Tapi beliau orang yang sangat normal. Aku senang pernah punya kakek yang sangat baik dan normal. Mungkin beliau akan malu kalau salah satu cucunya tidak normal, punya penyakit kejiwaan. Untung beliau tak pernah tahu. Haha.

Aku tidak menangis sampe saat kuantar beliau ke kubur sambil mengucap Subhanllahu wabihamdi. Aku merasa ada sesuatu yang sangat baik sedang ikut mengantar beliau sambil menyebut nama Allah swt.

Rest in Peace, grandfather. You're a prince by heart. Not by blood.

I've always been a fan of Kurt Cobain. And for me, his death is such a mystery. As I'm getting more interested in Forensic Linguistics, I want to analyze Kurt Cobain's suicide note from linguistic perspective.

So here's the legendary note:

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To Boddah

Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand.

All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven't felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guity beyond words about these things.

For example when we're back stage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begins., it doesn't affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can't fool you, any one of you. It simply isn't fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I'm having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do,God, believe me I do, but it's not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they're gone. I'm too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.

On our last 3 tours, I've had a much better appreciation for all the people I've known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can't get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don't you just enjoy it? I don't know!

I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what i used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can't stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I've become.

I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess.

Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.

Peace, love, empathy.
Kurt Cobain

Frances and Courtney, I'll be at your alter.
Please keep going Courtney, for Frances.
For her life, which will be so much happier without me.

I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!

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Sorry, I'm not gonna discuss about the analysis in this blog. As I'm still studying more comprehensively about forensic linguistics itself, and I want to make this research as my research paper for my graduate study.

For now, I only share the suicide note with you.. I don't know how it affects others, but it really breaks my heart every time I read this note. Somehow I can understand him.... in a way that most people don't understand.

This is my tribute to the late President of Poland, his wife, his family, the other victims in the plane crash, and surely to the Polish people.

The Presence of Existence: An Ode to Lech Kaczynski
By: Rima Muryantina


The presence of my existence hardly knows thee,
Until the presence of an existence, which most people associate as "free."
Your sudden unexpected freedom has caused a sudden unexpected grief,
Succeeded by sudden expected prayers, I believe.

Dear sir, I still hardly know thee,
But thy presence of existence sent my mind a great deal of philosophy,
That the world is a far-ranging dimension compared to the word "me."

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Goodbye Mr. President. I hardly know you, but may God be with you.

Innalillaahi wa inna ilahi roojiun.

From Allah we come and to Allah we return.

Today, one of my mom's best friends, Uncle Ahlan, died.

I just met him last week. On Wednesday, February 24.

Now today, he died.

I pray that God will forgive his sins and mistakes, and that He will take Uncle Ahlan's good deeds.

I'm sad, not only because he's a nice person, but also because he's so nice to both of my parents. I love people who are nice to the people I love.

And last week, when I sounded a little bit complaining about my current job, he said, "That's good. At least you know that life is never easy. When you are faced by difficulties, you learn something from this life," he said, more or less.

His advice made me feel better and started to think that I should stop complaining about my job and try to accept everything as the way things are.

His death also reminded me with my mom. She's old now. I know she's suffering from many diseases. She often suffers from insomnia. She's afraid of going to sleep because she said she's afraid that she couldn't open her eyes anymore one day.

She's afraid of death. I am afraid, too. But when the death arrives, I can only accept everything as the way things are.

I should be more thankful to what I've got. I'm really a type of person who doesn't know what I got till it's gone. I often treat my mom improperly. Sometimes it seems like I take her for granted. I am not a good daughter because sometimes I cannot fulfill my mom's wishes.

One of my mom's wishes is.... to see me married and have children.

But I can't give her grandchildren. I don't want to get married (at least that's what I feel at the moment).

But I really want to make my mom happy and fulfill her wishes. I want to make her proud. I know that I can't stay forever with her. Because I know someday we will be separated. Either by death, or by life.

Oh my, she called me. I will talk to you later, bloggy.