Friday, September 22, 2017

Suisocial Tendencies

Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of Me Talking. If there’s one thing so far that college has made me realize it’s how little I’ve grown in terms of social interaction. I mean, don’t get me wrong, of you were to have me write a speech or give a talk in front of a large group of people, I could do it, and I could do it well if I do say so myself. I’ve never had an issue being social in that aspect, but it’s what comes after the speech, or after that talk I find myself struggling with the most. I was told once by someone that my stance, and my facial expression give off an uninviting vibe and some (she meant most) people find that intimidating. I don’t mind being intimidating, but I don’t think of myself as a very intimidating person. I wake up in the morning. I eat a small breakfast. I go to school. I work. And I go home. That being said, why, since I have such a lifestyle so similar to those of my fellow peers, do I feel so alienated when it comes to being relatable? As I dug deeper into this thought I just became more confused as to what makes a conversation worth the time it takes to converse, and what makes someone want to talk to someone, and eventually have those two people become “friends”. I still don’t really know. I mean, in grade school, or even more recently in high school, you see a person wearing a shirt of a band you like, or you see someone whom you’ve had three classes in the same day with, and then you have something to work with, but does that still apply on college campuses? If it does, that kinda sucks. I’m so tired of that. I guess what I’m looking for from college right now (besides studying hard and doing well) is having a “real” conversation with an individual. Just starting a meaningful conversation that isn’t based on some common ground would be good, because I don’t think there needs to be common ground if it’s a real conversation. Kind of like a “My Dinner with Andre” thing, but rather than with old friends, with just some person. I feel as if I need this because I fear I’ve lost all socializing skills, and that’s pretty devastating. 

Thursday, September 14, 2017

PET CEMETERY

Hi. In case you didn’t know, I’m currently in my freshman year of college. I’m attending the University of St. Francis. So far in terms of academics I’m very much on top of things, but as you know we’re only about a month into first semester so it’s a little early to really brag about that. The one thing that weighs on my mind when it comes to college is the true atmosphere of the campus I attend. Growing up, I had this template for how college life is supposed to look. Most of that template came from “Animal House” and the once popular TV show “Community” (which I recommend you all watch). That being said, I expected hijinks and high-energy situations to ensue. In my short time here there are no togas in sight, a lack of pre-parties at football games, and no TP-ing in sight. It’s a little depressing. God, I hope I’m not becoming one of those depressed college kids I keep hearing about, that would be terrible. It’s too basic to be one, much too basic.



SPECIAL “LOS TWINS” ANNOUNCEMENT: I HAVE LANDED A RADIO SHOW WITH MY TWIN SISTER. TUNE IN STARTING THIS FRIDAY EVERY FRIDAY 9-14-2017 FROM 6PM CENTRAL TIME TO 8 PM CENTRAL TIME. LISTEN ON EITHER 88.7 FM RADIO OR ONLINE AT http://wcsf.streamon.fm/. WE WILL BE TALKING MUSIC, ART, PHILOSOPHY, SEX, AS WELL AS PLAYING ALL THE BEST TRACKS. 

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.


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

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

WRITERS NEVER SAY DIE

                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.


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

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.


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

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



*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