Being the groom at a wedding is really tiring. Non-stop congratulations that, while meaningful, you do not remember, non-stop logistical nightmares which really, the hotel should have sorted out, non-stop ’suan’-ing, which, your friends should try to keep reasonable, and on top of it all, the in-laws to worry about, who, leave political cold wars lingering in the back of your mind. While I do not doubt the bride’s involvement is a hefty one, any proper wedding really should have her well taken care of. That’s where good sisters come in handy. The last thing she ought to worry about is opening the hotel room door in her high heels and impossible-to-walk-in dress! Just sit, relax, and we’ll take care of the rest.
Fishing where none have fished…
What if dreams can come true? When the things you long for come to pass, and the rain ceases to fall upon the dull grey concrete below. When the towering behemoths that are there solely in prohibiting you from proceeding suddenly stand aback. When you can look back at the rodomontade of those behind you, of those who claimed, so garrulously of their triumphs and think nothing of you, and then you ignore it all, and can proceed, much to the disbelief of those who had always thought you so pertinacious.
But dreams are not always so simple. Sacrifices do sometimes have to be made. Choices are choices, after all. If life were so gracious as to give you an easy choice, show me such a place, and take me there.
Hype is an interesting thing. So is ambience. The two combined provide a rather potent combination. I’m now convinced that PS Cafe is both. And it is a living testimony that just goes to prove that if in fact you do have a beautifully lush surrounding oozing with class and sophistication, you can really serve the most nonchalant food and get away with it.
Til this day I suppose the best thing I have ever eaten there are the fries. They’re rather comparable to McDonalds.
Like any gathering of people happy, of people loud and joyful
There will always be an end.
The sound of hands clapping gives way to the wind.
and the voices no longer contend.
Sounds distance themselves into oblivion.
All you have left are the memoirs of a stage.
All you have is an empty act, with no scene to follow
Where once stood him, and her, in his gaze
So tangible it was seemingly so, so visible in memory.
Minutes ago it may have been. Or hours, hours?
A difference that matters? No one could even tell.
Over is over, and an aftermath is all that begins.
You and I said
theroo, happyjz
theroo, jb, theroo, bao, jo
theroo, happyjz, theroo, happyjz, theroo, jo
theroo, , , theroo, giraffe
jo
theroo, Ber, Ber