The Pink Floyd Epiphany

Many nights i've asked my ceiling, or the walls in my room - is earth really my home? Many days i've searched for something beautiful, something eccentric or extraordinary, or maybe something that made me simply happy. Something that is not pushed by the illogical minds of the majority which in result led many into oblivion. Something natural where people don't have to stick a needle right into their veins; because the scene of it makes me inevitably sad. Right now i sit at this verandah as i watch my friends learning a new water sport. I can't hear them; they are too far away. But i watch them as i watch the ocean expand as the wind sift in through the palm leaves. I have everything i need at this moment - beer, cigarettes, music and the lovely view from this olive green hammock. In case you're wondering, i'm listening to Selah Sue's Black Part Love. 'Be who you are now, be who you're supposed to be', she sings. Songs like these are simple yet they make you light a cigarette, look up and smile. And sometimes music and cigarettes just come in handy especially when you're taking a long, boring dump on the earth's crust. And even if i'm just sitting here like an old lady who just lost her memory, i think right now is enough. Even if others think it isn't - because we all have these contrasting ideas of indifferences - i'd like to think it is. This is who i am, this is the way i live. I am not in control of anything in this world but I love to plunge myself into different kinds of joy once in a while. I am sure everybody else does. Now that i've finished writing this, i'm not quite sure if this answered my question, or not. I don't even know if i made sense. But i can assure you that i wrote in all honesty so i guess that's okay. Because really, all we need is enough. We don't really need a big change, most of the time, little compromises are just as big.

♡Manganese

Birthday Poem for John

once on a dark, gloomy afternoon

she walked the alley

she found a tree, a strange tree

or was it a flower with an enormous stem

she couldn't tell

she bent over to examine it

and the tree,

or was it a flower with an enormous stem

surprised her with a kiss

she blushed, kissed back

and the alley floated in space

she floated in space

and the tree,

or was it a flower with an enormous stem floated in space

together

The end

Love always,

Natsumi & Hadley

♡Manganese

Nipa Hut

Sitting on a porch with her Virginia Slims on a very fine Wednesday evening

Night owls humming her favorite music

Sirens howling, dogs screaming, ocean waves whispering

The rattling of the universe, the explosion of stars inside your mouth

The bombing in the depths of the earth and the splashing sound of the fishes

All of these, she doesn't want to miss

Did you know that you don't want to miss any of these either?

Did you know  that you don't want to miss even the bad things?

The bad things that make you feel sad, really sad

The bad things that made you say 'good night, good bye'

The exact bad thing that brought her to that porch on a very fine Wednesday evening

When her friends are drinking and having one of the best times

The best times she would have kept forever

The best times she would have remembered as very special

But you can never hide away the invisible knife stuck inside your guts

You want to throw up

You want to roll over the place in pain

You want to be taken to the nearest hospital by an ambulance

If only you knew what to say to the doctors how that invisible knife got stuck inside your guts

So now, you would rather be sitting alone on another porch from the other side of the earth

You would rather listen with your right ear to every single sound the nature produces

And the other ear you dedicate to your body and soul's longing

Because you don't want to miss any of these things

Not one single thing left out

And did you know that there are other million people sitting on their porch right now? 

Feeling the exact same feeling that is making you feel sad

Pondering on the bad things they are embracing

And also the good things they are missing

Well, I thought you should know

And you might as well know that it is okay to feel shitty, and remorseful and happy

All at the same time, all at the same fucking time

♡Manganese

Battles, Wars, Scars

You are in a bad dream of all sorts, unable to move, unable to speak. You are just stuck in the woods like a bird with cursed wings. And although you are completely aware of the fact that the rebel humanity invented time for convenience's sake, you feel bad for going against it. The axis of time, you once smirked at its silliness, now devouring your whole transition, like an egg coagulating. But at least, you think, eggs can still serve another function. You are the perfect example of a recipe for disaster, going towards the opposite direction of a perfectly harmonious marching band. But it's okay. It's okay to be stagnant. It's okay to be void and empty because you know these are just the absence of the opposite. And you know that nothing stays in one form so there's no way you're going to stay like that forever. But you know deep down your core that you want to win over your defective physical container of your divine soul. And as much as you want to reach into conclusions, there are no conclusions. As what Oshima, coincidentally a hemophiliac, said in Murakami's Kafka on the Shore, novels without conclusions are perfectly fine. And you realize that he was right. Conclusions, after all, are concepts disguised as the effects of your actions and you can always change that; remember, always.

-Manganese

The Mean Reds

Outside the awareness realm of the gravitational earth I'm now living, lies a confusion that transcends every form of physical and metaphysical notion. The explosions inside my stomach and the high-frequency pitch ringing inside my head have been a lot more distinct.

And you see, that's the problem.

They have grown more distinct and evident only from my own perspective, and you wouldn't be able to see the glaring truth that has been up your ass the whole time unless they wave their hand giving you the go sign.

Some of you might think I've lost it, when in fact I'VE SEEN IT.

Some of you might just wait.

But you see, that's the problem.

Because the go sign will never come.

No matter how long you wait. It will take a lot of your time and I might as well say infinity. And while you stand there waiting, the waves will take you to places you don't want to go.

There will be waiters bringing you food you didn't order and they will let you pay double if you decline. There will be more funerals than birth.

More autumn than spring.

But you see, that's the problem.

Just like how the universe is expanding, every atom of my brain has been expanding - without my consent. And whether I like it or not, I need to stick some kind of gravitational force inside my head. Sometimes I get hold of these forces. Some other days, I don't. The opposite forces pulling my whole being apart is just much too strong and I get blown up - BLOWN UP WITH MY OWN CONFUSION without the slightest trace of my existence as a human being.

But I get to be reborn with a system built with a stronger gravitational force against the opposite force that blew me up before.

It blows you up and it builds a strong defense after.

But the cycle never stops.

I am so afraid that one day I might not get to be reborn again.

If I could turn around and run, I would. Because honestly, it SCARES me.

I wish Truman Capote wrote about remedies for the mean reds. I've been having the damn thing for a few years now and hell, Holly Golightly was right. It definitely is very unpleasant.

♡Manganese

To Leon

I had been in search for something profound

Something i could feel with my heart

Something i could see not with my eyes but through them

I had been in search for something big

Something my hands could hold on to

But not too big where it could easily slip

I had been in search for something new

I had been always moving and dancing and running

Even if it means running away

I had never been the one who sits calmly and wait

I had always been the one who kept people waiting but somehow

Somehow at this point, I can genuinely say

Without being naive that I can wait

Even if it means waiting through the long nights of winter

Along with my coffee table that sits by the window

Which makes a perfect contradiction with the busy cars running ten storeys down

These are my thoughts

Whenever i'm just sitting there

On that old wooden bench

Facing the lake blocked by tall bushes

With the light coming through

Painting beautiful silhouettes of trees

Trees that had lost their leaves

After autumn painted them red

And as I leave plunging my hands into the pockets of my black trench coat

I wonder how many more winters must I endure

And don't ever think it was easy

But I have to say

It is so hard to notice that it has been fifteen winters already when the world is this beautiful

So thank you

But I guess it's fair to say that you are waiting too

And so we are both waiting until fate takes over and allow me to be with you

I love you

Love,

Matilda

♡Manganese

Bullets May Turn To Stars

She saw the ashened look of the city lights and thought how incongruent it was with the living things that existed. It made her think that the gods who created them were impetuous, but the impetuousity was like the rivers; fully in control. She couldn't tell though which of the two was trying to obstruct, the city lights or the living things that existed? She suddenly thought of that man she met during her vacation. He told her calmly but vehemently, 'life is not a competition.' The words of that man, which she often consciously and unconsciously competed against was completely evoked. The moment she heard those words, she suddenly thought that maybe, maybe most of the people, if not all, were driven by their idiosyncratic belief of divinity. Though it was negatively drawed, she still thought that those people are far off better than herself. At least they have something to believe in. No matter what it is, even that one Nepali who never ate beef because he thinks that cows are the gods who created us, was far more better than her. She didn't have something to believe in. The books and poems she read, the words of the people she met, they are all void of meaning. What is left for her were questions. But she never stops searching. There was no time trip back to the place where the flowers bloom, but she thinks she can still make it. Bullets may turn to stars one day.

-Manganese