Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Bar Jokes


*Bar Jokes*

Two guys talking in a bar:

Guy 1: So just like that, you left her huh?
Guy 2: Yup.
Guy 1: God damn man, that’s bold.
Guy 2: I don’t know, I guess I think she deserves someone better. Someone who knows what they’re doing, or at least someone who knows who they are.

They sit in silence for a moment

Guy 1: And you think there’s someone out there who really knows that much?
Guy 2: I don’t know, I guess so... there must be, right?
Guy 1: Not really.
Guy 2: No, there HAS to be. Even if that’s a lie, I gotta keep telling myself that.
Guy 1: Why?
Guy 2: Because that’s the only way I can feel comfortable. I don’t want to be the best she ever had. That’s a terrifying thought to have.
Guy 1: You don’t wanna be the best?
Guy 2: No. Because I want the best for her, and leaving the way I did, I know she’d never want me back, but I want the best for her, but if I’m the best, she’ll never have it, and I can’t live with that.

There is more silence

Guy 2: I’d rather live a flimsy lie, than a harsh truth.
Guy 1: Well, that’s fucking retarded.

END


P.E.N.T.C.I.

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Country Roads


Country Roads
By: Rodolfo Perez

I’m learning to die,
Living to consume,
And learning to lie.
I don’t understand very much,
Like why she would give me that “lOOk”
Or why I became too afraid to touch.

I fell asleep in Mexico,
I woke up in reality,
I keep telling myself to let go,
As if my life is built on duality.

I do terrible things to remind myself how good life can be,
But I lose myself in the process.
Now I just face the crowds with a smile and glee,
Falling deeper and feeling less free.
I keep telling myself “this is what it means to feel!”
But I question whether life is worth feeling for.
It’s the pain of silent dread, but at least it’s real,
Rather this than the roar of unauthenticity.

“Hello? Anyone there?”


P.E.N.T.C.I.

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

KAZECKI


* It is difficult to put the emotions I’m feeling right now into words. With the following series, I want to express how the recent events have really left me conflicted, confused, and saddened.*
*With that said, I am NOT defending the actions of Michael Kazecki. To put your hands on someone is bad enough, but to put your hands on someone you love, there is no defense for that.*
*Although I do not defend Kazecki’s actions, I do not believe he is the psychopathic monster everyone believes should burn on a cross. He should face legal justice, yes, but we should not turn him into something he was not for the majority of his life*
*This is NOT a defense piece*



I’ve always found writing to be a therapeutic thing for me. Time and tragedy again, those of us who write, and, more importantly, write for the people, pick up our pens and paper, in an attempt to express what needs to be said, and what needs to be read. However, every so often we hear of something that is so surreal, so unimaginable, that it is difficult to express the emotions of those who bear witness to such events. I was met with this conflict on the night of August 7th. I had just come home from a movie, ready to begin editing a draft for an upcoming post when I saw my phone was flooded with messages and missed calls. I replayed some of the voicemails, and was shocked at what I heard.

“Did you hear about Kazecki??”
“He fucking killed his wife.”
“What a psycho!”
“What is wrong with him!!?”
“He’s a monster”
           
            My initial reaction was disgust. I was angry. I was angry at Michael. How could a man do something like this? Why would a man like him do anything like this? Before continuing, I believe now would be a good time to explain my association with Kazecki.
            Following the death of a teacher during the summer between my seventh and eighth grade year, we were informed we would be receiving a new instructor for language arts and social studies. I’ll admit, upon first glance, I was not very impressed. He seemed too laid back, too casual. At the time, I was an eighth grade kid who was too full of himself to think he “deserved” something less. That all changed within the first month of being in his class. He was eccentric, and he had the tendency to become passionate very quickly, but it was always over something I couldn’t appreciate until recently in my life. When he was not teaching, I remember he spoke of his fondness for classic literature and film, and his distaste for big corporations. Perhaps he was just playing devil’s advocate, going against what we deemed “cool” for the sake of capturing the interest of those unique few who would become intrigued by such things. He also spoke of his son, Roman, and how he was trying to put him through little league football (soccer) and how frustrated he would become whenever he would make a mistake on the field. The comments were made in jest meant to keep his classes intrigued. I even remember his unconventional way of approaching famous works of literature by putting the works into a more contemporary style.
            He coached our school’s academic bowl team, making sure we worked hard day in and day out, while showing us that being intelligent or a “nerd” is nothing to hate about yourself. It isn’t anything to beat yourself up over. He taught me to embrace the gifts and burdens I was given, even if it meant giving up on trying to fit in.
            The most memorable thing about him, however, was the manner to which he treated me. I knew he was someone who had very high expectations for his students and his children, but it’s as if he knew of my potential, and he would tell me he knew that me and my siblings would go on to do great things. I always gained a great deal of confidence whenever he would begin talking about college. “When you get into college”. Not if, when. With the exception of a handful of instructors in the past, no teacher before him ever used the term when, and that meant something to me. It’s one thing to have a family to support what you do, it’s another to have a outsider, someone who doesn’t know you personally, know your potential, and support you in that way. As idiotic as I was in those days, he still held those expectations for me, and I cannot hate the man for that.
            To conclude this misguided rant, I will say the following: Prior to his action of killing his wife, I knew Michael Kazecki as Mr. Kazecki, Coach Kazecki, and Mr. K. I enjoyed his class so much. He made my last year of middle school something memorable that even today, when I see an old classmate, or speak with my sister about the old days, we can look back at the good times, and see him. I suppose that’s what makes this so conflicting for me, so surreal, and so depressing. I got to know the man as someone I could confide in. He was someone who believed in me. He was someone who has gone down in my memory, and has impacted my life in a positive way, despite this terrible tragedy.
            I do not pray often, and when I do, I never know what to say, but I know with certainty that I will say something tonight, for his wife, for his children, and for his conscious.

Thank you.
Rodolfo Perez

P.E.N.T.C.I.

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Those Damn Teens (NEW CONCEPT)


Before you read, I want everyone to recognize that the following piece is not meant to offend anyone in any way. This piece is purely a product of my imagination, and is not intended to be an attack on anyone’s beliefs.

JESUS: THE REBEL (Part One)
            
            I hate goats. Even though I’m a 12 year old, I don’t see the appeal of tending to a flock. You wouldn’t believe how much I hate goats. Like, I get it, they give you milk, and I gotta admit, I’m a sucker for some lamb chops, but Me oh my, do they have to eat everything their mouth comes in contact with?? Take this morning right? I wake up, and mom tells me to go tend to the goats, pretty normal morning right? I go out there, when I see one of them chewing on my NEW TUNIC. My mom just made me the new threads a few days ago, now it has a big hole in the rib. I’m gonna look like a literal poor boy now, stupid thing! I can’t wait for Passover so we can sacrifice the goat. I think we named him Isaac or something I can’t remember. I know it’s like every boy’s dream to be a sheepherder, but I don’t know, I’m thinking something where I use my hands more. Yeah, like a fisherman or something…

Friday, July 6, 2018

UPDATE #25


Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of Me Talking! I want to take time to apologize for my absence over the past few weeks. I have been travelling a lot over the past month, trying to experience as much as I can with the people (post on that to come later). It’s now time for me to start preparing for the upcoming semester, as I only have about a month left before its back to college to begin some pre-semester work. Oh yeah, I came back home to some very exciting news for this blog. Me Talking has received its first partnership deal! I cannot tell you how excited I am for this opportunity, and the best part is, it’s with an app I trust and use already! The app is called Aaptiv Fitness, and it’s unlike any other fitness app I’ve used before. As hard-working students, I am sure we all know that making time for yourself can be a challenge, but that seems to be something people tell us is important time and time again. Finding simple, quick, and enjoyable ways to get active while strengthening your body can be a difficult thing to find in a world that wants us to specialize so quickly….until today.

That’s where Aaptiv comes in.

Not only do they offer tons of traditional workouts (each pairing the perfect playlist with the guidance of a trainer which is awesome), they each offer unique trainers for particular workouts to match your intensity. The best thing about the app in my opinion is that it is an audio app, meaning you don’t have to spend precious time looking at a screen for your next instruction, you simply put in some earbuds and go!
            I personally love using this app. I feel as if I have a personal trainer right beside me telling me what to do, and pushing me further and further. I highly recommend this app, and by using the link provided below to sign up, you’re helping the blog out while helping yourself. It’s a win-win scenario.

But wait…. there is this one last thing.

            Did I mention if you sign up using the Me Talking link, you get your first 30 days FREE?? I don’t know about you guys, but this is one hell of a deal. I’m very excited for this opportunity, and it couldn’t be done without you all. I love you all, and here’s to the next one!

LINK TO SIGN UP: Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of Me Talking! I want to take time to apologize for my absence over the past few weeks. I have been travelling a lot over the past month, trying to experience as much as I can with the people (post on that to come later). It’s now time for me to start preparing for the upcoming semester, as I only have about a month left before its back to college to begin some pre-semester work. Oh yeah, I came back home to some very exciting news for this blog. Me Talking has received its first partnership deal! I cannot tell you how excited I am for this opportunity, and the best part is, it’s with an app I trust and use already! The app is called Aaptiv Fitness, and it’s unlike any other fitness app I’ve used before. As hard-working students, I am sure we all know that making time for yourself can be a challenge, but that seems to be something people tell us is important time and time again. Finding simple, quick, and enjoyable ways to get active while strengthening your body can be a difficult thing to find in a world that wants us to specialize so quickly….until today. That’s where Aaptiv comes in. Not only do they offer tons of traditional workouts (each pairing the perfect playlist with the guidance of a trainer which is awesome), they each offer unique trainers for particular workouts to match your intensity. The best thing about the app in my opinion is that it is an audio app, meaning you don’t have to spend precious time looking at a screen for your next instruction, you simply put in some earbuds and go! I personally love using this app. I feel as if I have a personal trainer right beside me telling me what to do, and pushing me further and further. I highly recommend this app, and by using the link provided below to sign up, you’re helping the blog out while helping yourself. It’s a win-win scenario. But wait…. there is this one last thing. Did I mention if you sign up using the Me Talking link, you get your first 30 days FREE?? I don’t know about you guys, but this is one hell of a deal. I’m very excited for this opportunity, and it couldn’t be done without you all. I love you all, and here’s to the next one!

 LINK TO SIGN UP:

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Know Thyself (Part 2)

*Disclaimer: The next few posts that start with the title “Know Thyself” will make the reader think the author is depressed or cynical, but that is not the case. Upon examination, the author was found not to be depressed, but rather, just an idiot. The following posts of the same title are excerpts from the essay: “Life: The Uncertain Certainty or (Living without Knowing Myself)”. Enjoy.


-Rodolfo Perez (The fucking author)

As a young boy growing up on a not so nice part of Joliet Illinois, I had a much-skewed representation of love, especially in regards to the events that would transpire within my community. I remember it being a cold October night, just a few days before Halloween. I was eight years old. I was outside in my backyard, sitting down on the patio steps with no particular task. No one was home, as my parents often had to work well into the evening during those days of financial struggle, and my siblings were at a school Halloween celebration. It did not take long before that familiar feeling of loneliness began to wash over me. I mistook this feeling of dread and loneliness for the physical response to the cold October air. I sat out there, looking to the sky, when I heard a crash coming from my neighbor’s house. I heard one voice, screaming obscenities, and another, barking insults back at the voice. Their front door swung open, and the loud creak of the door fringes seemingly forced me to look down in front of me. My neighbor, let us call him Raul, came walking out rather briskly, followed by his wife, we will call her Pamela. She was screaming at him something among the lines of “Go Ahead! Go drink with your friends! It’s not like you have a family to take care of!” He swore a few more times at her and got into his car, and drove away. Now, Raul and Pamela, until this moment, seemed like quite a happy couple. They were married, they had two children, both of which excelled in school, and they both had jobs that provided them with some type of livable income. I had seen my parents argue before, but neither of them ever left the house, much less over a night out with their friends. I had seen my fair share of arguments, fights, and even a killing in one case, but something about this scene shook me, and a question came to me. What is love? Now, as a child, the question seemed to have such a simple answer, but to this day, I still go back to that moment. Seeing Pamela so angry with the man she had been married with for well over a decade, and seeing her sobbing on her porch steps as he drove away, I will never get that out of my mind. Religion tells me to love everyone, even those I do not want to love, and many schools of thought teach to love people unconditionally, but I argue that by doing that, we are dulling the intensity an emotion like love brings. Love is something precious, something that is limited in a sense. If one is to love everyone unconditionally, how are we supposed to distinguish whether or not we have any authenticity in regards to caring about an individual? I often think, in regards to this question, if I love everyone equally and unconditionally, how am I supposed to choose someone to marry, or show my family how much they mean to me, or make sure I am not leaving an individual out of my love? Because of this question, I have been accused of not showing I care, or that I do not show I care more about certain things over others. I suppose at one point I convinced myself that I had a mindset much like Walt Whitman had during the time in which he would make his rounds around the army hospitals. I told myself that, like Whitman, I thought, “That could be me” and because of this, I would try my best to appeal to everyone else’s needs. Now I see that cannot be the case, for even in providing all I can for the people around me, I still have this aching sense of alienation from human emotion, and that often leads to loneliness. As I reflect on the deeds I do for people, whether they be big or small, I question whether I am doing it out of love, or simply for the sake of doing it. I do not give money to the homeless man because I love him; I just do it for the sake of doing it. I do not lend a hand for someone who has fallen (in a figurative or literal sense) because I love him or her; I lend a hand because I have a hand to lend.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Beaten Soliders


Beaten Soliders
By: Rodolfo Perez

We are soldiers in the war against the enemy of time.
We live in the moments of the day to day,
Yet make every attempt to rebel against the forces which dictate our past, present,
And future.
Like waves of the ocean that never end,
We are forever tossed about,
Breaking against the coast of reality.
But we rise up,
Upon a new dawn,
And go against the currents,
Hoping, wishing, and forever desiring,
That one day the waves will stop coming.