Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Questions That Keep Me Up At Night

Hi. You wanna know what's something that bothers me? Probably not, I mean who cares what some kid from the midwest has to say right? Anyways, something that's always bothered me is the ability to make a problem out of nothing. We exist on this planet with no structured purpose. We are born, we live (some of us do anyway) and we die, simple as that. In this simple life however, we're born with the gift and the curse we call conscious thought, and it's a bitch I'm telling you. Through this thinking process, we create this gold standard for what our life is supposed to be like, and that standard is to be happy day in and day out, nonstop, for our entire lives. My question is why? Why create this unrealistic goal of unlimited contentment, when the majority of our lives are filled with hardship and despair? I'm not saying it's wrong to want to be happy, but it is wrong to be unfeasible and want happiness every waking moment in your entire life. We need hardship in our lives. Without a little bit of stress in our lives, what would drive us to do anything? A life without a little bit of stress once in a while isn't a life worth living in my opinion. With that being said, I'd love to hear an opinion on this, so if anyone wants to comment on this feel free to. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more.


Wednesday, April 26, 2017


                It’s been a while since I’ve last logged into my blog. I’ll admit, a part of me had forgotten the short term popularity this website had generated, and yet here I am, writing (eventually typing by the time you read this) to this hollow entity I’ve created. I graduate high school in 30 days, 24 minutes, and 19 seconds from writing this, and I could not be more anxious to leave the secondary level of education into my undergraduate studies. With the timer counting down the seconds to the moment I wait for, I can’t help but start remembering what got me to this point. A lot of people look to their memory for some validation of how they’ve changed over time, and how they’re not the same people coming into high school as they are leaving. With that in mind, I believe I have not changed at all over my four years in school, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. So many people have left my life. Some left for good, and I miss a lot of them. Thinking about them reminds me of what life used to be like, and how simple it used to be.


Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Dreams and Power

Hi everyone. I have to be honest with all of you who still open this blog up to check in on any content I may release. I feel it’s my duty as a creator, and as a person to be honest with the way things are going right now. My second semester has started today. It is the last semester of high school for me, and it seems like everyone is up in arms and energized. I am not energized; as a matter of fact, I am exhausted. My exhaustion reaches beyond the academic realm and has made its way into my family life. Suddenly the talks of what college I want to go to or what major I want to take are no longer discussed, but argued. The things I find in my short life to give me pleasure, or give me a moment of contentment are being criticized on occasion. I think the thing that disturbs me the most are my dreams. I used to anticipate going to bed because I would have dreams of pleasure, success, and dreams where impossibilities become possible. Over the last couple of months, I have been having dreams that have become more surreal as time goes on. Dreams where I’ll be in my home with my girlfriend, calmly enjoying a film or a nice cup of coffee, are interrupted by a knock at the door. Upon opening the door, I see an old friend of mine standing there. Before even asking what she is doing there, she forces her way into my home, and attempts to kill me. This is the basic template of a dream I’ve had for about four times in the last week. Every time I have this dream, something more and more bizarre occurs. In the most recent rendition of this wild episode (just this past night) she was accompanied by her boyfriend and a few unrecognizable people. The odd thing about these dreams is that they never succeed in ending my life, for I always wake up before they do. Upon waking up from the dream, I make an attempt to fall asleep, but I can’t. So there I lay awake for hours until the morning comes. I don’t know why I’m having these dreams, or why I can’t fall asleep, but it’s something that makes one think what it really means to be grounded as an individual. I hope the dreams end; I really do need my sleep.


Tuesday, September 27, 2016

I'm France

I am France.

One of these days I will share my writing with you all.

Today is not that day.

- France

Friday, September 2, 2016

A Post About Nothing

Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of Me Talking. When I arrived home from school a feeling of melancholy washed over me for some reason. I’ve been feeling like this every Friday evening for as long as I can remember. I don’t really know how to describe the feeling. I get home, I take off my shoes and set my book bag to the floor. If I’m not working I go upstairs to put on some comfortable clothes, and if I do work I go upstairs to put on my work clothes. If I find myself not going to work, I put on my leisure clothes and make my slow way down the stairs. When I come down I am usually greeted by my parents and about 50 questions about my day or what I did the day before. Beyond the typical words of encouragement that I can do it “if I tried harder” speech is the slow descent into the harsh reflection of my week. I begin to question and overthink every achievement and defeat. Did I really do everything I wanted to do this week? Was that feeling of praise and power and self-fulfillment really warranted with my “achievements” of the week? I look over to the dinner table. It’s set for a candlelight dinner, like many Fridays as the weather begins to get colder, and the leaves begin to fall from the trees. I would message my girlfriend, but she’s at her cross country practice so she won’t answer. I don’t want to overwhelm her with my petty overthinking, so I’ll message her later when she gets out. My mother calls me from the kitchen asking me what I’m doing, and I answer “nothing”. Nothing. That’s a typical response I give when I know she’s going to tell me to help her. She begins to tell me in a raised voice to come help her with the dinner. I begin to wonder whether or not I was actually doing nothing just then. Nothing, like many things in life, is all perspective. The smallest thing can mean the world and more to someone, while the world and more can mean the smallest thing to others. She’s yelling now. The smell of roast chicken and garlic fill the air, and I know dinner is ready to be served. It’s ready to be served, and I will help serve it. I get up now and go into the kitchen. My mother is putting chicken, potatoes, and a salad on a porcelain plate in even proportions. I look at the plates as I set them at each of our seats, and I realize I’m pretty hungry. When we talk at the dinner table, we will disagree on the topic at hand, no matter what it may be. That’s just what happens when you live with six other people. This feeling is isn’t losable. Rather, I just learn to live with it. It has to pass at some point, and it does, but only for a moment.

*Sorry for the lack of content once again, I'm still getting back into the swing of things. But don't follow your dreams, follow me instead

Thursday, September 1, 2016



By: Rodolfo Perez




I just need to clear my mind now,

It’s been racing since the summer time.

I’ve been holding a cup for too long,

A once cold beverage is body temperature.

The music has stopped playing,

The summer is over.

The summer is over.

The summer has been over.

It’s on to the late nights without the party.

The quick meals without the conversation.

But there is someone who keeps me going.

She remains to celebrate the victories,

And comfort me in my defeats.

Suddenly autumn becomes my favorite season.


Monday, August 29, 2016

A Thought In Requiem

A Thought in Requiem

By: Rodolfo Perez

Self-destruction was no longer a choice, but an obligation.

It was an unspoken responsibility. It brought salvation.

Too many times I have sat and watched.

Sat and suffered.

I sat as the faces around me became rougher.

I could no longer recognize them.

These people I once thought I found comfort with.

But that thought is in requiem.

The days we spent indulging in the short but boundless luxuries,

It all disgusted me.

Often, I like to look back, and wonder.

I wonder if they remember who I was.

I wonder if they wonder why I don’t carry a face like theirs.

I wonder if they wonder if I wonder who I am now,

But they won’t know.

For I’m gone now.

The thought of me is in requiem as well,

As my thoughts of them are.