Monday, February 29, 2016

An Open Letter to Internal Machinations


An Open Letter to Internal Machinations

By: Rodolfo Perez

 

 

 

I’m tired.

I’m 17 and I’m tired.

I’m 17, I have a family, and I’m tired.

I’m respected.

People come and ask ME for answers.

But I’m tired.

I’m fairly sure of what I have to do to be “happy”

But I’m tired,

And I’m tired.

I’m loved, and hated,

And I’m tired.

I’m tired of waking up,

And acting like I don’t need to get out of bed.

I’m tired of acting like I’m tired when I’m not.

I’m tired of not speaking enough.

I’m tired of listening too little.

I’m tired of seasons.

I’m tired of time.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of bitching like I am right now.

So, I’ll stop

Because that’s what you do when you’re tired of something right?

You stop doing that something.

 

 

THIS WORK IS NOT AFFILAITED WITH P.E.N.T.C.I. IN ANY WAY

Sunday, February 21, 2016

The Life and Death Of The Party


The Life and Death of the Party

By: Rodolfo Perez

 

I’m the party,

And I know I should feel happy.

Many people would kill to be in such a seat like this,

An old oak dinner chair serves as an unofficial throne.

And it gives me a perfect view of the spectacle.

People are all around me, and even though I invited most of them,

I don’t know their names,

I can’t recognize their faces,

I used to.

I used to be able to pick out every imperfection in them,

The way their smiles would bounce off the walls,

The way their dance movements would be slightly off-beat

And that made them perfect,

But their faces are now mere shadows overlaid by the pounding beam light.

Its straight, white, bright flashes keep coming back to my home,

To my memory,

Very much like the people who are moving to the dancing lights.

I used to find substance in these events.

The loud music,

The louder people.

But now I feel empty.

My home is filled with people, and music,

But I feel more alone than ever.

 

                                                                 

 

       P.E.N.T.C.I.

Friday, February 19, 2016

Film Announcement



My dearest readers,


            Due to legal issues as well as technical concerns with footage, I have decided, that for the best interests of P.E.N.T.C.I.’s responsibility as a creative group to produce good, quality art and work, that PEREZ: THE FILM will postponed due to editing issues. After finishing the film in mid-November I had a plan to have a screening at The Illinois International Film Festival in Springfield during the year. Unfortunately, upon submitting my ideas and credits to the reviewers, they said I lacked proper musical copyright permission in order to submit the film in. I then took to the drawing board once again in order to find music that best suited the content of this mockumentary. I then replaced most of the soundtrack in the film. After watching it again though, it just didn’t feel like it used to. The feeling and expression I was trying to convey just wasn’t the same. I tried to rerecord scenes, but had difficulty doing that while trying to keep up with school, the blog, and my family. So, the bottom line is, I have work to do because the film isn’t where I want it to be. I want to create the art I have in my mind, and I feel PEREZ: THE FILM isn’t at that point yet. I want to apologize for yet another postponement, but I know every last one of you can understand the circumstances. I want to apologize to Brian Kwok especially for changing up the project once again. If you have any questions regarding the film process, please e-mail me at


iamjob9918@gmail.com


I owe it to every last one of you to answer any questions you have regarding the film, and other P.E.N.T.C.I. projects. Once again, I’m not giving up on this film, and I can promise that I will do everything in my power as a creator to make this idea a reality.


Thanks again,


Rodolfo Perez
P.E.N.T.C.I.

Monday, February 15, 2016

The Fears of Two Men


THE FEARS OF TWO MEN

By: Rodolfo Perez

 

 

Two men sit across from each other in an empty café, there are two cups of coffee between them, and one of them is on the phone. As the first one finishes his conversation on the phone, the other takes periodic sips from his cup.

Man 1: Yeah, I love you too mama. Yes, I’ll tell him, okay, I love you too, okay mama, bye now. Yes, bye.

Man 1 hangs up phone

Man 1: Mothers, can’t live with them. Could never live without them.

Man 2: (chuckles) I guess so.

 

A short silence breaks before them

 

Man 2: Why are we doing this?

Man 1: What?

Man 2: This. Talking. Here. In this shitty little coffee shop, about our stupid little problems that will go away with a night’s slumber.

Man 1: Well that’s not true.

Man 2: What? Our stupid little problems?

Man 1: No, about them all going away with a night’s slumber. They never go away, they just kind of…take a coffee break.

Man 2: They have to go away sometime.

Man 1: No, see that’s the thing. Problems aren’t a thing with thoughts and emotions. They don’t give a shit about you, your ambitions, your goals or even your goddamn financial life. They’re just there, because they just are, and they’re never going to go away.

Man 2: ….

Man 1: No need to get depressed over this, I mean, the reality has always been there you-

Man 2: No, it’s not that it’s just, I had this exam today for BioChem. I must’ve forgotten.

Man 1: Can you make it up?

Man 2: Probably not.

Man 1: Well, then what are you going to do?

Man 2: I don’t know. I guess, talk to my professor and hope for the best.

Man 1: Hope for the best?

Man 2: Yeah, you know hope (Takes sip of coffee) it’s this thing where you believe in something so much in the idea that that belief may turn out to be reality.

Man 1: Well that’s one way to put it.

Man 2: How would you put it then?

Man 1: I don’t know I don’t really believe in it.

Man 2: How can you not believe in hope?

Man 1: I don’t know, I just don’t.

Man 2: Well, in all due respect that’s kind of stupid.

 

Waitress comes in and puts two French bagels between them

 

Man 2: Excuse me, we didn’t order these.

Waitress: Well, they’re on your table, so they’re yours.

 

Waitress walks away

 

Man 1: What the hell was that?

Man 2: I don’t know, do you know her?

Man 1: No.

 

Man 2 reaches for one

 

Man 1: No, don’t eat those! Let’s get out of here.

Man 2: Why are you so scared to eat?

Man 1: They can be rotten or poisoned or something.

Man 2: But they can also be the best bagels you’ve ever had.

Man 1: Fine (Takes bagel) here’s to failure.

Man 2: Here’s to death.

They touch bagels and take a bite.

 

 



END

 

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

Sunday, February 14, 2016

FEBRUARY



ONE-TIME ONLY (BLIND IGNORANCE)


 


By: Rodolfo Perez





The cold air of February chokes me up,


As her voice once did.


The scenery was beautiful to observe, with a new feature coming out each time you looked,


So was she.


She was the reason the birds sang,


But even birds have to stop singing one day.


Her lips, once full with life,


Appear pale, and dead


To me.


I wanted something true,


But I never knew what truth was.


She was here in the beginning,


As she is here at the end,


And although she sits right across from me,


I can barely see her.


We will leave soon.


Shake hands perhaps,


As if this whole ordeal was a mistake.


-


“So what do you think?”


“Hello, anyone in there?”


“Oh, so this is what you’re going to do huh?”


-


She’s getting up now, ready to say goodbye for the last time.


But we’ll meet again,


For there are more February airs to come,


Ready to choke me once more.


And we both know that birds cannot stay quiet forever.


 


                       P.E.N.T.C.I.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Modernism in Black



 

“Modernism in Black”

By: Rodolfo Perez

 

There are bigger problems in life that cannot be fixed by laughter,

Or a bottle.

There are bigger problems,

Than what may become of the

Bubbling cauldron that is fear.

Yes, there are bigger problems,

For some.

I have little to do,

I travel great distances,

Yet where are these problems I hear of?

Am I shielded from the atrocities of a modern life?

Or am I blind to raging waterfall of facts that wash over me?

What am I?

Why am I here?

Why am I alive?

Why do you care?