Jaw-dropping. Spine-tingling. OHMYGOSH.

Charice Pempengco on The Ellen Degeneres Show. Purrfect!

BRITNEY SPEARS - PIECE OF ME

Filipino Pride

HOLY BOILING VAGINA KETTLE. I'm Speechless. Her name's Charice Pempengco and this little kiddo belter has been recently invited by some korean people in their local media to perform fer Star King. But mind you, she has been featured on E! News Daily Ten just recently and you could actually start to drool over that thought alone. Hearing her sing could almost make you forget about Bianca Ryan and some other star search kids. Haha, Filipino Man, Filipino.

P.S. I might soon come in peace with the thought that I might as well start to forget about my dreams of pursuing a singing career in the future. Haaaaay.

Pink Panther

Good lord. This is what Britney Spears wore for Halloween. Bless her.

Well just so you know, this was at Heidi Klum's Halloween Bash somewhere in L.A. She went with her cousin, Alli Sims, who dressed up like a paparazzi for the said occassion. (Err, okay?)

I wasn't able to search for any pictures of her with Miss Supermodel Klum but I've read on some site that they did chat for quite a while. And according to some resources, Mrs. Ex-Federline even gave Heidi some hints on how to put on diapers for her baby. Hmmm. Good fer the both of them. Bless all the party people in the world.

Louie Briones' 16th birthday.

Well I'm not actually sure if he's sixteen or what, but anyway, i had fun. Being the kiddie social butterfly that he is, he just roamed around autoshop compound to scout for fellow friends. He didn't even drink with us nor did he danced out or anything. He just took some random table visits, took a few wasted pictures with us, and went away as usual. But anyway, we still love him. I bet he'll soon replace me with his new "kiddo" title.


O wait, meron pa. As usual, a night will never be complete without being at least a little inebriated with a few pitchers of my favorite, blue margarita. Sure it's a lady's drink but so fucking what. I love it with salt and that little lemon looking fruit, calamansi. (Okay, far-out, but i don't need your comment.)


I really didn't get drunk, but at least, i felt the feeling of alcohol creeping in my system. There were a few people who surprised my sight, like Nikki and Denis for instance. Plus I didn't expect Russel Lelis and Cara Villa-Abrille would be able to come, so malamang, nasurprise talaga aco. I didn't see these in-born nocturnal party people fer like ages now, so can you just imagine the hype, the million exchanges of besos and non-stop cam whoring. Good lord. Had I been left at home, I would have been able to miss a bagazillion whole lot! Phew.

Louietot, belated ulet! Ha3.

This has been utterly a great night, indeed. Mabuti nalang libre. Waaaaa.

Have you already found your bestfriend?

The refulgent bright clouds of yesterday morning slowly trickled into dark angry heavens probably around mid-afternoon. In fact, it did rain last night, and I was really happy my wish was granted. I am not really fond of being under the sun, or exposing my entire self under a hot yellow flaming ball. I easily get dark, so better hide from it.

There were a number of students who already went home earlier than 4pm, probably because they wanted a huge spare out of going home wet, literally. I didn't really mind, I don't have any business with their own decisions and there really isn't much difference in the ateneo scene without them. I stayed, and so as my friends. It wasn't really raining yet, but droplets of water started to pour down, bit by bit.



Our friend, Karen, who took nursing from another school surprisingly threw a visit, and I got really excited of her presence since I really missed almost half of this emo bum. Together with Marylou and Ada (the two closest people in my life), we went straight to SM. Riding in a sports car looking cab, bragging with a boisterous sound system and shitloads of mp3 discs that contain modern songs like umbrella, we took spoof videos of ourselves. It was really fun. It has already been quite a while since I rode a cab together with these people.

Looking at the windows of the taxi, a very clear view of muddy roads and slabby shoes struck my sight, and there were drenched people walking their way homes, probably because during rainy season, it takes real luck to get a decent cab. I thought we might be having a hard time taking one, too, but I didn't let it bother me at all. I was already starving then, and nothing else was boiling inside my hard skull aside from cheeseburger and fries.

We dropped by Lito Sy, munched on a light meal for dinner (except for me), and went to Karl's for a few puffs. Marylou and Karen left around 6:30pm; they just went there to talk over a small plate of cookies. Ada and I opted to stay. We thought it would be too early to go home, and besides, it's the end of school days so it's not much of a bothersome idea to stay late.


Earlier when we were still eating, Ada and I had already been talking about matters that started to bug her since God knows when. She has been deeply contemplating about what could have been her crush's initial impression when she started laughing over an annoying tickle. I told her it would be more disturbing if she didn't laugh at all; it's human nature to burst out in laughter when nerves get excited. Maybe either because of touching some sensitive parts, or simply because something's funny. I thought she might be starting to evolve into this little petty-minded brat, wearing bright colored hoodies and skimpy shorts, until she started to talk, and share, with great sense.

It's not everytime that we talk like this. We're never a serious loving team. But it's everyday that we laugh our hearts out over non-sense criticisms, funny faces, or, most probably, because of deo. I once thought we only have become bestfriends just because we share the same taste, the same reactions toward circumstances, and the same humor that keep us going as everyday partners. But no, I was wrong. It was when she started sharing all her doubts, her fears, her heartaches, her long-kept insecurities, that I realized we were bonded to become bestfriends for a hidden premise.

I felt like I've grown into a person to be deeply trusted, through her I must say. I felt like I've turned out to be a much more functional peer counselor than what I've thought. It's been already quite a long time since I felt the overwhelming feeling of having a bestfriend. But now it's time to indulge in it.

I felt so sincerely flattered. All this time she knows I will always be this rotten-minded, narcissistic blabber mouth who has endless spiels to say. And I know she will always be this egotistic, over-spending, in-born primadonna that she is. I just can't stress enough how much I love her beyond all that. After all, it's not everytime that you find a bestfriend as fashionable as mine.

You, have you already found your bestfriend?
I have already found mine=)

Emotional Fool

It's nothing really but a myriad of pointlessness. The literary attempts, the drunken fridays, the sleepless weekends where you almost drown yourself in tears, and the never-ending questions that boil inside your mind. When the heavens offer you a better day, you just want to look back and take the good deal. Who knows if it might be a good start? Besides, as what I've said, it's you who leads your own life, and not vice versa. Otherwise, the narurally striking evil concurrence behind certain circumstances will simply make it worse.

But amidst the optimistic luck, there will always be spaces that wait to be filled in, and the disarray of thoughts start to confuse your once functional mind. You gyrate yourself in a different world bombarded with questions. I really don't know if I'm making any sense here. Most of you won't even understand, probably because you cannot fully relate. But I have something in mind. Something in which I try to exhale out of my conciousness, or at least, for the mean time.

I'm not usually like this. I started to feel emotionally eerie for the past few days. Gone are the moments when I just sit around and laugh my lungs out, seriously to the point that I cannot inhale the slightest remaining air that surrounds me. I'm happy. I'm seriously happy. It's just that I tend to imbibe each and every problem that surrounds me, with or without sense, may they be mine or other's.

I have my own problems too, of course. It must really be the most tired thing in the world that exist without taking breaks. You, your neighbor, your ex-highschool crush, the person who first broke your heart and the least person you like have problems as well, but maybe not as much as a big deal compared to the entire world's dilemma. When most of us get happy, we tend to forget about the disturbing ones, which basically means that it covered up the whole thing. But they still exist. They're still there, and they will never get out of your life unless you find a solution out of it.

Sharing emotional struggles must be the least inborn character that I was given by the good heavens. Though, not as quite as you think. I find it a very hard time sharing my problems to anyone, not even to my parents. I just lean back and start to think of it; talking to myself as if I was not in my right state of mind. And after some time of blabbing it all out, I will already feel released.

The horizontal muscle movements of your lips can be usually done without sincerity, so sometimes, I can easily fake it. I don't intend to act out so completely ingenuine, it's just that, out of hidden premises and circumstance, I unconciously fall into it. I don't know, but sometimes, they just get it quick---that there's a difference, that there's something wrong. It seems to reverberate on my every move, my every word, my every action. The once genuine and cheerful personality that I am has already been trapped inside a spurious counterfeited body.

Uncanny as it may seem, I don't care. It's normal. I discerned to myself that people are six times more emotional compared to what they only like to admit. So basically, this is not really something unusual.

I now came in understanding with the fact that I might just be dwelling on senseless anxiousness that nobody even finds time to think about. I really might have some personal issues, but I'm now ready to face each of them, without hiding behind the shadows that cover up my happy disposition. I guess I'm just being too sensitive. But I'm feeling better now. Maybe, this was just a meager phase that probably most people my age would come across with in their journey to early adolesence.

I guess it all boils down to one thing: Problems may come and go, and sometimes they hurt twice as much as how we thought it would affect us. But dealing with day-to-day worries shouldn't be something that would make drastic changes in our positive outlooks in life. It is somehow a blessing from above that makes us a better person, and indeed, a stronger one.

Think I could pass for the next Mr. Emotional Fool? Nah, cut the thought. =)

Blisfully Back,
ROLLY MARCIAL

Count Dracula Count

Waking up with heavy eyebags, while feeling very feeblish and trying to get over with a very sleepy head could possibly pass for a decent movie. Well, horror, that is. It would be a perfect scene to scare cats away, or those annoying "indays" that come roaming all over your house to scout for food. Too bad November 7 isn't Halloween, I could've been the best looking villain if in case.

I felt like I've been sleep deprived for a year, and thought that my body might be starting to clamor for justice. My eyes almost looked like a swimming pool, where dirtly little ducks swam the whole day long, and to my horror, I almost poppped my eyes out in shock. But no. There was no way for me to get back to bed and sleep. I might be experiencing some tremendous case of sleep disorders but there's no way, definitley no way for me to sleep back. So I slowly stepped out of my room, roamed around the house in search of ate baby, and asked her if she can cook me lean pork with pesto sauce. Looking at me from head to foot, she gave me this blank sigh, as if she's had no idea of what's happening to me. I guess I already started to look drunk. Someone acting out so completely inebriated, probably with a strong mix of tequila and gin, wandering around an empty street in a drunken night.

Thirty past Eleven, I started finishing my meal. Without even being alarmed for my tardiness, I sat down in vain, amidst the feeling of my heavy body putting great friction on the chair. I suddenly thought back about fifth grade, where I struggled to at least look a little lankier than my original body structure. Thinking back about class, I assume they did nothing but introduce themselves to the new teachers, jot down their names for the class attendance, and numb their fingers by texting in boredom. Had I start to fret over my lateness, I probably would look 10x more haggard by then. Being the usual laid-back that I am, I just sit back and relax, thinking that being absent from three classes won't hurt that much.

The clock ticked 12, and my system started giving up. I had no choice but to sleep back, and I did. The outcome: I missed more than half of my subjects, got back up at around 1:30pm, went to school and pretended that I was at the right state of mind.

Coffee, indeed, is a very much potent anti-oxidant, and one of the best cheap alternatives that spare you away from all the troubles caused by a sleepy unconcious head. But I guess it's now time to take a huge leap. From coffee to a plain, boring, decaffeinated mocha mix. Especially now that insomnia already starts to creep in my insides.

The never-sleeping caffeinated crowd of Myspace must be really proud of me.

P.S. I am badly in need of SLEEP. Thanks.

The Child's Play

A couple of days back, I suddenly felt the feeling of being seventeen. Some more years and I'll be off to face the real living world, where real-life drama and intricate struggles will sure be a huge inevitable phase of it. Playing with life without ease is one thing you should start changing from yourself, because I'm sure that everybody my age will be deprived from replays and turning back this time.

Contemplating about what could come after college, I felt entirely naked. Naked in a sense that I'm seeking for some strength within me, strength that could smoothly glide my old-boat through a lane of thorned stones. It's not about being scared, or having felt the feeling of losing your strong self. I know I'm strong. I can slit your throat and cuss you to death if provoked, and I must admit that I get myself into endless wrangles sometimes, but I'm talking about the strength needed to face future responsibilites that come as a whole with life.

I'm not really paranoid with the fact that life will soon throw you with immense problems, and circumstances will appear as if done in conspiracy. But I'm afraid that life is starting to push me, push me towards the clear road to future. I lived my life the way carefree people lived theirs, and I must say I didn't grow up with responsibilites placed around me, responsibilities that had to be done independently. I turned down the opportunity of studying away from my parents, and opted to adhere myself in my comfort zone. I'm afraid I might end up miserable in meeting up with obligations; obligations and responsibilities that I must perceive, understand, and fully imbibe in myself. It's like facing a whole new world without superior guidance or authority.

Seventeen years must be real long, but it could've felt longer and much greater if it was lived with substance. I use to think about myself alone, and material things that can easily come in possession once I do good in school. I've been entirely narcissistic, living a self-centered life that only think about my self advantage. I party, danced out to sheer exhaustion, get drunk, get wasted, throw up, and wake up the next day with a headache and a bad stomach. Something which I used to do in a routinary way --- Fridays or Saturdays. On the other hand, school has been something in which you could possibly link with plain mediocrity. I used to do really, really good in school, without losing my spot in our class' top 5 list. I can strain my eyes on life-sized books when needed for a test. But everything seemed to turn quick when I came to thirst for what they call worldliness. Something teenagers like me long for everytime they find out about the hype and thrill of being bad, mean, and fierce-looking. Yes, of course, teenagers try hard to climb the social ladder to get his/herself up in the immaculate social scene, where heaven and hell seem to ironically mix, and, later on, become a huge part of it. And there the thought of being trying hard starts to vanish.

Back in enrollment for the second semester of this year, I was on queue for some school assessments which basically is required for readmission. I failed my FYCF (First Year Christian Formation) for the first semester, so I had to be deliberated by the school council for me to be readmitted again. I didn't have any failing grades, though I'm not as much as contented with my other grades compared to what I got in College Algebra. I believe that I didn't fail out of academic premises, or because I did not do well in class. I actually did. I jot down every emotional journal notes to be passed everyday, not to brag, but I really do get great remarks. There will always be a side of me that will remain emotional.

Back to my point, while I was on queue, a recent enemy crossed my way, with golden locks almost as exact as mine, and with white skin twice as pale as what I have. I really don't mind that we both look the same; I knew better, for sure. I didn't start anything annoying that could make him feel uncomfortable, nor did I act fiercely mad. Nothing. I just sit and did the usual way of talking as if nobody's there. I never felt terrorized with his presence, never, really. And never will I be scared, in whatever manner, never. Then he started acting so completely retarded in front of me, with raised eyebrows that almost reached his hairline, and compulsive body movements that boasts out thinking he's superior. I almost laughed. I never thought normal human beings could actually take the risk of almost putting injury on their facial tissues just to look fierce, that honestly, it just turned out to look funny. Seeing someone act so retarded must be a real comedic scene. But in the contrary, the usual emotional being that I am, my rage and heartfelt hatred started creeping up my system, that I was already on the verge of standing up, and start real chaos -----without even thinking of the proper place that we should be in. But I didn't. I just sit back, tried to relax and let loose of the force on my fist. I thought of all the things I've done to him. All the bruise-causing insults I've thrown at him. All the shitloads of curses, all the verbal abuse. But he didn't fight back. Not even a single revenge done at my conciousness. None. Then I started to think back about what I've read about Oprah. She's in total belief with the saying that whatever you give to the world will also be given back to you. And then I came back to my normal self, again with the vivid scene of lined-up students inside a freezing crowdy room. He stopped looking. Maybe because I also stopped staring. I realized I've already been too mean towards him, that I forgot about human respect and the huge amount of congeniality that I was brought up to. I admit I've been a total badass, especially at times when I publicly humiliate him with my punching words, that he'd just nod down and act as if nothing's happened. And then again I thought back of Oprah, especially when she mentioned about happiness. Basically, I'm happy. I've always been happy. I get what I want and I earn truckloads of friends that I need, but there will always be something that's missing. Nothing's really perfect, but I know I could crawl to the point where I feel completely perfect. If you think something is missing in your life, and you're not getting what you deserve, remember that there's no Yellow Brick Road to happiness. As what Oprah said, "You lead life; it doesn't lead you". Genius. Extremely Genius.

I am only a kid with a heart for my actions. I am trying to become a better person, because I now realized the truth about my life. I am faced with God's eternal question of either living the life that was meant for me, or be stifled by the one I was living. You see, I dream big at seventeen. BIG. Really, really BIG. I once dreamt of establishing a world president, and that would be me, and I would be a multimedia artist at the same time, with fans dying to have their picture taken with me, all in one holy package. That was when I was seven. I'm happy that I'm gifted with talents, a great mind, and clear understandings toward life. It's just that I'm not putting much effort of working it out. Soon, I will aim high for things to boil down at one goal---for me to achieve life without any negative forces that could thwart my dreams. At this moment, I'm not yet ready to leave the life that I am living. I'm not yet ready to give up my drunken nights, my pointless decisions, my childish monologues----the six year old spoiled brat trapped in a grown-up's body. Maybe not now, but slowly... surely. Someday, I will become my own ideal person. A person who plays life with ease. A person with distinct substance, a person who knows better. A person who appreciates clean fun, sincere smiles. The Sun. The Gentle Breeze. The Crickets, and all the shooting stars. A person who can lead life past mediocrity. A person leading a life that's a far cry from a narcissistic point of view
of a child's play.

Playing with cars & voodoo dolls,
ROLLY