Weddings Windings
A friend just wed to a man twice her height and twice as blond. She married a European. And I was there to witness it. Yet another June bride.
This was officially the first wedding I have ever attended. I am not quite sure if I have attended receptions before but if indeed they are, I have no idea about it. So, again, officially this is my first attendance on a wedding. I was a groomsman. I wore barong tagalog. And I never really looked nice in it.
This was not a Catholic wedding, but anyway, I have nothing to differentiate it with. What's nice about this is that the place where they were wed is the same place where we ate. So there's no running, walking, sprinting towards the buffet table. No one died during the course of slicing, rumbling, forking of food on the table, other than of course the pigs, chickens, cows, who spared their lives to make this celebration a possibility. Glory to these animals, to their sons and daughters, to their mothers and fathers, who in one way or another will make their way to yet another smorgasbord who I wished I will be a part of. I am such a pig. Nothing against pigs, though.
The couple will soon leave this country and will settle in Ireland, a greener pasteur, where cows will be milked and milked, until they have yet become a part of everyone's dining table. I am happy for them for they will definitely be nourished in an area where I know chances of success are higher. They will be living in a richer dominion, a new haven of hope, a barnyard of fat cattles. They will be leaving this wretched country and will look back to this as an instrument why they are now together. I wished I can do likewise, not necessarily marrying an alien, but leaving this country and look back to it as the reason why I pursue things I don't even like pursuing. There is still hope.
I inverted the hourglass. The sand of time dropping in a tiny waist hole. Soon, I will turn it over again, hoping that this time it's a whole different new hourglass. Shrinking in coldness of the winter season, sparkling in silver dusts taken from the coastal fjords, adorned in foreign taste. Dreams are all I have. Just like everybody else.
Jesslyn & Mark, congratulations!
This was officially the first wedding I have ever attended. I am not quite sure if I have attended receptions before but if indeed they are, I have no idea about it. So, again, officially this is my first attendance on a wedding. I was a groomsman. I wore barong tagalog. And I never really looked nice in it.
This was not a Catholic wedding, but anyway, I have nothing to differentiate it with. What's nice about this is that the place where they were wed is the same place where we ate. So there's no running, walking, sprinting towards the buffet table. No one died during the course of slicing, rumbling, forking of food on the table, other than of course the pigs, chickens, cows, who spared their lives to make this celebration a possibility. Glory to these animals, to their sons and daughters, to their mothers and fathers, who in one way or another will make their way to yet another smorgasbord who I wished I will be a part of. I am such a pig. Nothing against pigs, though.
The couple will soon leave this country and will settle in Ireland, a greener pasteur, where cows will be milked and milked, until they have yet become a part of everyone's dining table. I am happy for them for they will definitely be nourished in an area where I know chances of success are higher. They will be living in a richer dominion, a new haven of hope, a barnyard of fat cattles. They will be leaving this wretched country and will look back to this as an instrument why they are now together. I wished I can do likewise, not necessarily marrying an alien, but leaving this country and look back to it as the reason why I pursue things I don't even like pursuing. There is still hope.
I inverted the hourglass. The sand of time dropping in a tiny waist hole. Soon, I will turn it over again, hoping that this time it's a whole different new hourglass. Shrinking in coldness of the winter season, sparkling in silver dusts taken from the coastal fjords, adorned in foreign taste. Dreams are all I have. Just like everybody else.
Jesslyn & Mark, congratulations!
posted by RovJohn at 1:47 AM
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