Wooden rocking chair.

Slowly rocking in the breeze,
Enjoying the soft sun rays,
But change is coming.

Out comes the brush,
Followed by a can of paint.
Must cover that natural tone,
So that it will match the house.

Slowly the grain disappears,
Hidden beneath the stain.
Bright white pasted roughly,
Enwrapping the beautiful tan.

As it dries in the solar warmth,
Only it’s form hasn’t changed.
But it keeps a secret from the world,
Underneath it’s dressing it’s still brown.

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Noctem

Evening air’s cool fingertips,
lightly caressing my face.
Cedar trees are dancing,
with the moon as a spotlight.
Celestial beings walking,
across the pitch black sky.

Give me that late night fog,
that slinks in across the ground,
like a panther stalking its prey,
quietly and swiftly moving,
through the golden fields,
leaving it’s moist prints,
on every blade of grass.

I am at home after the sun retires,
that time when the coyotes play,
the owls are out on the hunt,
and bats own the airspace.
The symphony of the nocturnal,
sweet orchestral performance,
filling me with joy and peace.

Gorgeous, peaceful, nighttime,
The Sun just doesn’t understand.

-Josef LeBlanc

night moon

Late Night Thoughts.

red skull

I am a night owl. Sometimes life steals my joy for the moonlit hours. A Job that requires rising early, classes that pressure me to sleep early, even more. But as of now I have nothing restraining my nocturnal habits. With the silence that fills the air, when the world rests their heads to their pillows, my mind is allowed to do what it does best. Over-analyze everything, over-think the events of the day, week, year. And I fucking love it!

I have let my mind wander through recent happenings of my life. I have moped, I have cried, and let myself feel morose. I have felt rage, and lashed out. But I have also laughed, and smiled, and loved. I will again cry, probably soon, and I know I will smile and laugh even sooner, and hopefully more often.

What I know, is that people we let in our lives have the ability to destroy us, crumble the pillars that hold us upright. But, it is also people we bring in our lives, that help hold us up. They will help build us back up stronger and and support us when another tempest hits our shores.

I look at my entire life, so far, and I see beautiful poetry. It is written in every event, every choice, and every consequence. I see the ebb and flow of pain and happiness, and it is glorious. I wonder if everyone sees the prose of their own life. Maybe it is just those that choose to see it.

My sonnet is far from over, but I am sure that when it comes to its close, and the last verse is upon me, I will be glad that the content of it will make me proud to be the one who penned it.

Until later days,
-Joe

Kleine Schmetterling

Fluttering wings gracefully travelling,
moving swiftly across the field.
Flower to flower it rests intermittently,
giving little care to the rest of the world.

I capture it gently between my hands,
feeling its light touches on my palm.
Slowly opening my grasp of its fragile body,
admiring the vibrant colors as it escapes.

It floats so sweetly back into my palms,
as if it can sense I mean it no harm.
Gracing me with its time so precious,
For its life quickly passes faster than mine.

Awestruck, Amazed, and Amused,
This beautiful creature, sharing its glory.
I want nothing more than to soak it in,
like the rays of the sun upon my skin.

Thank you little butterfly,
You brighten my day.
You bring so much joy,
Even though your company may be fleeting.

butterfly

– Josef LeBlanc

Just a musing.

I don’t know where this post will go, I know it wont be like my normal writing. This is more of a finger diarrhea. So much has happened in my life the past week or so.

Where to start? Well a couple weeks back I quit my job. I absolutely loathed the place. They abuse the FLSA exempt status of their salary employees. There were weeks I put in 60, 70, even 90 hours without much compensation. I had a racist employee whom even after I filed a complaint on still is employed by the company. I am not one to pull out the race card. I think it is one of the most overused “whoa is me” excuses. But she made many of my customers uncomfortable with her derogatory words towards Hispanics. Along with literally telling me I am nothing but a, “Fucking Fat Mexican!” That is unacceptable. While I was a supervisor, I tried to get the company to raise the pay of future employees because hiring and keeping quality employees was difficult. It wasn’t a good environment for me to be in, and I had to leave. I have yet to find a job but I am looking.

I started a relationship that I am not sure where it is going yet, but I love her face to the moon and back, and I am not comfortable putting any more than that for everyone to read so I will leave it at that.

My great uncle was admitted to the hospital this past week. I came to visit him and he isn’t doing well. He and I havent always had a solid relationship, but he is my Oma’s only brother, I do love him, and I worry about her. I accepted my own mortality a long time ago. I continuously stare down Death, tell him to fuck off and today is not the day he gets to take me. But when I am in the presence of a family member I grew up knowing and having conversations with laying looking helpless, with that asshole Death standing in the corner, it is hard to deal with. It is harder when I am dealing with my anxiety issues.

I am not comfortable going to church. I go with my family to keep my mother happy. I have my own spirituality that I am happy with and it isn’t the way that my mom isn’t happy with but she accepts.  Anyway, A couple of times I have gone to church, I have had really bad anxiety attacks. This morning was one of them. I am not sure what triggers them. I attribute them to being in the middle of the pew surrounded by people I don’t know. I feel trapped, and tears start pouring from my eyes. I don’t feel sad, but I can’t help from crying. I hate it. I don’t like crying, I don’t like feeling hopeless.

So I sit here on my sister’s couch, it is my second home, drinking a KCCO White wheat, spewing continuously what seems to be a bunch of just random thoughts. DGAF.

Till later days.
Joe

The Friendzone is real.

So over the past couple days I have been pondering the subject of the infamous “Friendzone.” It all started after watching a video about the Friendzone by a guy called Scooter Magruder which was pretty funny. When I read the comments I was amazed at the responses the video was getting. From guys claiming that only lesser men get friendzoned, to girls claiming the Friendzone is a myth. The lot of it was mostly the kind of garbage people only have the nerve to state thanks to the anonymity of the interwebs. But that’s a whole different story for another time.

For those of us who don’t know what the Friendzone is, here is a quick break down; a guy finds interest in a girl (or visa versa but we will stay with the male aspect because I am one and I can’t say it’s the same for both sexes) and he becomes friendly with said girl. Guy starts showing interest hoping to advance relationship to something meaningful, but girl avoids such advances. Girl accepts the guys extra friendly gestures from guy and guy sees her acceptance as mutual interest. Relationship plateaus at friend only level where guy feels that girl ignores his feelings. Usually ending in resentment by guy who feels as if relationship is one-sided.

Before I go any further yes the guy is dumb for thinking things will go any further than just friends in a 100% of his opposite sex relationships. And that brings me to my first point; the claim that the Friendzone is a myth.

One of the comments on the previously stated video was, “the Friendzone is a myth, guys shouldn’t expect sex because they shower a girl with gifts and friendliness.” Man that statement alone is filled with so much hate. Look I agree that guys shouldn’t expect intercourse just because they are nice to a girl. That devalues women as humans. But this girl makes a huge generalisation that men only want sex, which is doing the same thing she is accusing the men of doing. Look, just because I would sleep with most of my lady friends doesn’t mean that’s the only reason I’m friends with them. And just because I would have sex with a person doesn’t mean I want to have sex with them. I enjoy sex, but I also enjoy making my friends smile, I enjoy giving them gifts and being there for emotional support. Even if it makes me feel uncomfortable when girls cry.

I won’t lie there are some girls that I became friends with just because I wanted to sleep with them, those friendships don’t last long because the emotional connection is not there. There is no other foundation to the friendship and I usually don’t go out of my way to impress them by buying them stuff. But then there are girls who are on my radar as possible mates. Someone who has shared interests and our personalities mesh well. Those are the girls that I build a friendship with in hopes of furthering it to dating status. Sometimes it progresses and other times is does not. Sometimes I get amazing friends out of the whole experience and other times you realize the person is caustic and self absorbed. Such is life.

The Friendzone isn’t always this loathsome place that no man wants to venture to. But it becomes one when you hear the cliche responses given to you over and over again.

I’m looking for a guy whose just like you.” “you’ll make a girl really happy one day.” et al. When a guy is putting himself out there and it is completely ignored but the guy is exactly what the girl wants in a guy it gets really confusing and we feel as if the girl is just ignoring us. I get it, we aren’t attracted to everyone we come in contact with, and you can’t force an attraction that isn’t there. Sometimes it feels as if we are continually being led on and/or used because we actually care. And I know all the fault of these situations are not solely on the women because sometimes it’s just the guy ignoring the fact that the girl has made it clear she isn’t interested.

Sometimes we just need to step back, evaluate ourselves, and evaluate the people we have around us and do what is best for us. I will continue being put into the Friendzone and I will accept it as part of life. It’s whatever to me now. And one day I will find someone who wants to try to have a relationship with me that’s more than just friends and I’ll be ready.

Keep strong friends.

Doldrums and other stuff.

Why is it you only hit me up when you’re mad at your man? Is it because you know I’ll hold your hand? Give you a shoulder to cry on, and understand. You’ll go back, and I’ll sit here wondering, when will I make a stand? After every time I tell myself, “no more being your emotional crutch. Never again will I put myself out there to support the stupidity of out all.” You’re afraid of change and I get that, but obviously you’re unhappy. But then again, I will continue to sit here waiting because I know you’ll need me. To brush away the tears, and boost you back up. Because I am strong even though inside I feel like crumbling, and it’s what I do because I care about you.

Lonely orchid

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Vibrant petals, spread wide open,
Embracing the air and light.
Smiling, its colorful grin,
Wanting to wrap me in its aroma.

Sweet tastes, flood my palette,
Filling me with joy.
Must take it in, in its entirety,
For time moves too quickly.

But memories, oh jubilant memories,
Remain forever, deep within my soul.

Self reflections of a lonely heart

When you tire from the relationship games; when all your advances are me with avoidance or rejection; it is hard to keep faith that you will find love. You start having meaningless sexual encounters to satiate your overactive libido, but you remain hollow. I miss having someone who its the highlight of my day. Who I am eager to converse with, and the longing to have physical contact with is ever present. It’s one of the few things that saves me from believing I am a sociopath.
A pretty, intelligent woman who had interest in me is difficult to find, because most smart women are smart enough to avoid someone who is broken. Someone like me.
I have been clawing my way back from hitting rock bottom, where I was not due to drugs or alcohol, but an addiction to a person. For what ever reason she still has a draw on me, talons still hooked on my soul ever so slightly. Where I occasionally wonder if it would be ok to return. I compare prospective women to her, to see if they measure up.
So I sit here stumbling through the murky swamp of relationship purgatory. Sifting through the debris and muck, hoping to find that person who overshadows my past and brightens my day.

Ink me baby one more time.

Héctor the octopus
Héctor the octopus
The jolly roger
The jolly roger
Krieg und frieden
Krieg und frieden

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I have six tattoos, four pictured here. I couldnt find pictures of the other two and i am too lazy to ask my coworker to take pictures of them. Each one has significance to who i am.

My newest tattoo is Héctor the octopus which is pictured first. I have always found Cephalopods to be one of the most interesting creatures. They are highly intelligent invertebrates, who adapt instantaneously to their environment. Avid hunters, but are some times prey for other predators. I fancy myself to be similar to the octopus so it seemed to be a logical tattoo choice.

The second tattoo pictured is a tattoo I’ve had for about 11 years. Everyone should recognize the jolly roger. I decided to add the mohawk to the classic jolly roger. It represents the group of friends i had in the army,and we called ourselves the land locked pierats. We were young and rebellious and understood we were tools of war. Pawns of military-industrial complex, accepting or fate that we may die at any moment in service to our nation and embracing death as a comrade and natural order.

The last two are my guns. They are .44 magnums with krieg and frieden (war and peace) embossed on the barrels. I have had a saying since my time in the military that goes, “Only death can take my sword!” I won’t stop fighting for what i believe in, until my heart stops beating. Krieg is on my right arm which is my dominant hand. It’s the arm i favor in throwing punches and the one that pulls the trigger on my firearms. Frieden is on my left arm close to my heart.

I also have a battle worn Texas flag on a sabre because being a Texan is who i am and I’m proud to be one.

I want more, so many more. The urge for needle and ink to create beautiful art on a living canvas is always present. They are not for everybody, but for those who have them they understand the want for more. I’m just debating on what to get next.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tattoo….You?.”