Milk 'n' Mango

dolls on Flickr.

Posting from my flickr account.

Dolls and old shops.

Friday Evening on Flickr.

I’ll be posting from my flickr account from now on :)

Why are you in love with melancholy? he asked.

Because I’ve been dipped in folly, I answer.

How so?

I should have just been a pair of ragged claws.

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas?

Yes.

Why?

I do not think they will sing to me anymore.

Sure they will. I will for sure.

You don’t know. Everything is just so wrong.

Perhaps. But all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

No dreams. Only reality.

Why? Why this sadness? This lack of empathy?

Because.

An explanation of cause is not a justification by reason.

In that case, I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

Let me help you.

You can’t. No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

Then arrange whatever pieces come your way.

I’m trying. But I’m failing.

You do know that all that is gold does not glitter.

That’s not all I seek. I’m wandering for happiness, but I can’t find it.

Not all those who wander are lost.

The beauty of the world is cutting my heart asunder.

You need the edge of laughter again.

How do I get it back?

All shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

When?

Give it some time.

It will take forever for the fire and rose to be one.

Don’t you understand?

What?

My love for you.

No.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Nay. So that I end up saying my noon, my midnight, my talk, my song -

- Don’t say it.

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

Not with me.

That’s what they all say.

If I could take your troubles, I would toss them into the sea.

Why?

Please don’t love melancholy so.

I’ve been dipped forever.

But sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time.

And I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.

Then let me come help you choose the road not taken.

Wherever I go arbitrary blackness gallops in. Oh I should have –

— Shh, stop measuring your life in coffee spoons.

Let us go then, you and I.

And be one acquainted with the night to bring back your day.

I’ve been trying to think of something soothing for a long time now. This little piece here isn’t as soothing as you wanted, I’m sure. But I promised I’d get something done this weekend, and all I could think of now was a message going out to sea. And at least I’m not two months late right? Haha, just kidding, you know I love you tons.

I’ve re-blogged another one of my poems for now. I have a bunch of ideas that I’m working on that I would love to put up. Also, I love these letters we’ve been writing to each other now. It’s like a mini-series of it’s own. Love it.

Just like I love you,

Manu

P.S. I hope those last few lines don’t sound too lovey dovey :p

I wrote everything down on a sheet of white paper. The printing paper without any lines. No borders. No lines. No limitations. But now it was contaminated with my words. Black ink. Black thoughts.

I folded the paper carefully and put it in a clear bottle. I then drove to the beach. My apartment was close to the serenity of the blue sky reflected on the water. The weather today was beautiful. Perfect for my mission. The waters were not raging as on days of a storm.

I took off my shoes and left them in my car. Walking through the sand, I got to the edge of the shore. I walked into the water. The cold of the water seeped through my feet and my whole body. I shivered, excited for my mission. When the water was no longer shallow, I swam as far as I deemed necessary.

I then let my bottle go. My message. My message in a bottle.

The black thoughts were now swimming in the clear bottle. Perhaps someone would find the paper one day. Perhaps someone would never find it. Perhaps that bird flying above would guard my message, or carry it away in its beak to another place.

Either way, I was now free.  

Apologies that my response is late!

Also, the photo was rushed because of a promise…it didn’t turn out the way I expected. I’m not too keen about the colors of the floor. However, the next time I get a chance—I’ll replace it with something better.

However, for now. Your next challenge!

With lotsa love,

Bee <3

Crazy Core Mango Peach Death.

The two girls were sitting in class waiting for the lecture to begin. They were talking about the assignment. One of them opened a pack of skittles. She poured some into her friend’s hand. Two skittles fell to her lap and as they were falling to the floor Lola tried to grab them. Sara laughed. Lola picked one up but couldn’t find the other.

The mango-peach skittle had rolled down her jeans and onto the floor, past the professor’s desk and stopped near the door. A student opened the door to step out, and kicked the skittle. Crazy core mango-peach was now out the door and into the hall amongst the many students and teachers making their way to class. The lone skittle rolled down the corridor and came to a halt again.

This time it was kicked down the stairs, from the third all the way to the first. It stayed there for an hour and fifteen minutes. Another young boy ran by and the skittle rolled out the door with the rushing wind through the window and of the boy hustling along. Mango-peach almost made it out the main entrance when a group of friends walked by and it was crushed by yellow sneakers.

The janitor came by later to mop the floors and the crushed skittle was now wet and swept away into a trash bin.    

My response story isn’t as wacky as you would like it, I’m pretty sure. I’d like it to be wackier too. I’ll edit for you soon, I promise. But since we’re moving along, I thought I’d put it up still. 

Also, since you’re moving along to bigger and better things starting this week, while I’m still stuck here in limbo, I thought I’d try to quicken the pace too to make up for our lost time. Hopefully you’ll still have some time to continue this lovely game of ours when you move off to your new milestone. I still lack excitement in my life and you know oh so well.

<3 you mucho tons,

Manu