Thoughts about Image

Two months ago, I made up this account in a website called formspring.me which allows people to ask the most random and whimsical of questions. Since I have been too burdened with all that squeeze of chance I encountered, I never really quite thought about checking it out. Add to that, my complicating stupidity has brought forth this idea that formspring questions automatically show up on your webpage without further answering, and since I did not see any questions turn up on my webpage, I never really did bother to open.

Of course, there always come a time when you are just dying to get out of your blah days and you realize that the most immediate way for escape is to keep up with your social networking sites, your busted blog, or in my case, a formspring account. So I opened it. And to my surprise, it snapped.

I was, after all, surprised. A roll-down of questions sprung from my inbox and the most I expected were simple queries of where to buy, what to wear, how to do, etc. But, like a boulder falling from the sky, it punched in quick and left me dumbstruck like a clueless cat. Besides, who would really be ready for some heavy batch of hate mail and questions that range from the love-letter types to furious cases of deep-seated wrath? In the first place, I just never expected anything like that. So one by one, I answered all of them. As formspring was meant for questions, people will always love to cross the line, and majority of what hit me in my page were statements - all of which were, of course, pertaining to my image. And I think they are all getting it wrong.


For the longest time I never really contemplated much about what people think of me. But long before I have come up with this maturity, image was a priority. At several different points in my life, I looked like Jollibee, a whiter version of Fat Bobby, a batang Batibot, and at times when I am overwhelmingly happy, the Yahoo Messnger logo. I fought with weight, tried several different looks which would rather suit other people's taste instead of mine, and conform to what is it that would make me look cool, fierce, hot commodity or whatever. It was that stage of early life when I gathered all my insecurities and from them, muster all kept self-will to transform into this made-up version of myself, and, quite surprisingly, it was a success.

But just like any other fad that emerge into mainstream consciousness, it always come to a ceasing point. It just stops. Either you get tired of it or people get tired of it so you stop from doing it, being it, living it. It's quite dangerous how we set up a certain facade from which we invest so much time to impress other people's like. When you are deeply immersed into other people's standards, you suddenly lose yourself in the process. You fall into a deep pit of pretention, by which case could be outright difficult for you to regain back your old self. And eventually, you grow into the sleeves of this persona you have made up just for the love of other's interest.

As I thought of smart retorts and sarcastic answers, I realized that they all got it wrong. In formspring, people cursed me for being "feeling", loved me for being "glossy", hated me for being not good enough, and praised me for my fashion sense. I know, matter-of-factly, that sometimes I come out too strong. Either I look like I drank a jug of confidence and took a bite out of a cake of self-worth, or I "felt" like a celebrity walking my ass off a flaming runway in school. But, simplier said, I am not like that. For the most part, I get conscious when people look at me, get tensed with what to answer when praised, and never let any form of flattery and compliment get into the core of my head. I am also very religious and I always abide to my own set of laws and limitations, and I AM NOT OUT OF CONTROL. On another note, fashion is not my life, and I am not the central information counter of all leading shopping centers in the metro. I am a simple, flexible person and most of the time I'd like to get stupid and dumb and just laugh my ass off out of something even more stupid than I am. I also have major tendencies to act mean and bitchy on random moments, and most possibly when provoked. I speak up my mind but I also know how to keep things to myself. I am not a hung-up plastic little spastic just like most of them filthy brats. I am honest to my friends but I know the boundary between telling the truth and being brutally rude so I don't just clock up in your face and tell you that you're ugly, your boyfriend looks like your father, or your weight could amount to that of an elephant. And of course, contrary to what I believe is a major impression of me, I would always smile back once you say hi, and more likely than not, I will also say hi.

In fact, I love people and I can gracefully deal with the crazy and dysfunctional ones without issues of clash. Shortly said, I am actually nice. Forgive me for the praise but I seriously believe that beyond the faux-image that people made up of me, I am an entirely nice citizen of this country. I am just (best assumed) very much misunderstood.





As for me, I am still my original self. Or maybe better said, "back to my old original self." I am, again, me. The one and only Rolly Marcial who loves to talk to himself, cry in front of the mirror, and pretend to be a teacher when privately studying. I also love long-walks with friends and I enjoy ice cream over teenybopper films.

As for my formspring, whatever they ask me, hit me, or assume about me, I still enjoy the highs and lows of answering questions about ME - old me and new me alike. :)