UMM

“UMM”

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

 A strange man in a strange land perhaps I have been gone to long. I moved all most as far as I can to the north to avoid big cities and all the beauty that goes with it. The dopers, illegal aliens, pretentious house wives that can’t find Canada on a map, big fat sleazy men that believe they are brilliant marketers because they hand out free coasters as they pimp Coors Light Beer, punk ass kids on ridalin driving their leased cars. People purchasing 800,000.00 dollar homes when they make 40,000 a year thinking they can pull it off, and then just can’t believe where it all went wrong.  Just because one qualifies never means they have what it takes to truly survive. Lottery lines in the liquor store, people all believing they have a lucky vibe while they hold their shit soaked baby saying “Gonna hit it this time.” A man behind that one replying “I aint ever had a fare shake.” To Goddamn bad, I never ran across the Polish collage fund either, but I some how managed to carve out a path. It always seems to be someone else’s fault when people miss the fine print, but surely it is never there illiteracy that equates into the math. Someone save me, someone help me, someone bail me out. A young lady frets while standing in the “Ten Items or Less Line“I know I was watching American Idol, when perhaps I should have paid a little more attention to the economy and politics. California’s 3 million illegal immigrants cost tax payers 9 billion a year, umm hand me a beer.

 I am burned out on ignorance and why people remain illiterate by choice. I am in it for the children, veterans and stray dogs. Every boom has its bust and sadness rains across the land. Oh I have empathy for some, there are always innocent victims, I know about loss and what it cost and the evil that drips from the crack in the ceiling into my cornflakes. Don’t mind me these are just my morning thoughts.

ANOTHER HALF ASS RANT

“ANOTHER HALF ASS RANT”

FROM THE BOOK OF SHEB

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

When I get sad, I go away, to a private place where only song bird’s play, and butterflies rest upon my knee and tell me that everything will be ok, like those three little birds in that Marley song.  Then I have a bong hit and chase it with a beer and think “This is a pleasant place, with that being said my life is still fucked up.” The bong hit however, does get the butterflies to talk more, and there’s nothing like a talking butterfly really. Except for maybe the caterpillar, you know that one, the hookah smoken mother fucker from Alice and Wonderland. Of course that caterpillar became a butterfly I assume much like the ones that have been talking to me. Puff the Magic Dragon he was higher then a Georgia Pine, and frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Hanalei. Puff’s life was fucked too because children grew up and stopped believing in him and so he would die or simply vanish, same thing. What keeps an entity alive? People, living energy, humans that’s who. If enough people stop believing in a spirit the spirit dissolves. It is much like the spirit in oneself, you stop believing in yourself, you lose your spirit. The spirit needs energy or the life will just be sucked out of you. In the end you’re nothing more then just a dried up ball of shit with painted on eyelashes staring down a lot of spent calendars and boxed wine. I am not an advice columnist, and I don’t do a lot of movie quotes, but there is one I am found of from “The Shawshank Redemption” it is when Andy Dufresne said “You either get busy living, or you get busy dying.”

 I think of that quote often when I seem to be feeling sorry for myself or legitimately depressed for an over extended healthy period of time. Because there comes a point in life where it just takes to much self awareness to realize your beginning to enjoy life so therefore many feel they need to make a continues conscious effort to draw back from reality and catapult themselves back into a state of disbelieve and numbness do to some fucked up guilt issue that tells them they just don’t deserve to celebrate life. It is easy, but it does take a lot of work on an energy scale to stay depressed. That’s why when you’re sad you feel as week as a kitten some days because being upset, sad, depressed or whatever descriptive emotion one wants to use, bottom line is it sucks the fucking life out of you. I notice for myself it takes very little energy to be happy, but on the upside as well, being happy produces a lot of positive energy for myself and for the people around me in my circle. The great philosopher Leghorn Foghorn once said “That’s a flag waiver Boy; you have to keep your on the ball. Keep your mitt in the air you’re built to close to the ground and your missing the high ones.” Basically what Leghorn was saying was that everything you need is right there in front of you to be happy, just snatch it up when it’s offered, because it may not come back around.

 Inclosing I will say this. Life it is the greatest most amazing gift anyone could be given, to be aware that you are alive is monumentally huge in biblical proportion. There is very little any of us can do to really to increase the longevity of our life; no one truly knows when their expiration date is up. There is one thing we do have control over most of the time and that is the quality of our life.

 Life may be short, but it is the longest event that we will ever take part in. Raise the bar of the quality of your life, by doing this you may also increase the quality of life for another. Be apart of life, live out loud…That Leghorn what a Cock…lol

BE GOOD TO YOURSELF

“BE GOOD TO YOURSELF”

JUST A RANT

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

I have seldom ever grown emphatic about very much in my life after the age of 12. I use to chase things, grabbing for coat tails hoping to get a ride to see more of life. However as the years ground down I had realized at a very young age that Mr. Opportunity does not present him self at the door, not my door anyway and for that matter most people never show up in your life because they think they may cheer you up. Most people show up to greet you because they need an emotion fulfilled. I am spontaneous, impulsive, and driven to live out loud. I have learned that if you wait around for someone to make up their own mind on any particular subject that most likely all you will end up with is a lot of hedge grass growing up around your ass while you wait under the shade tree. There’s nothing wrong sitting under a shade tree, trust me it is perhaps one of the best seats on the planet, but the reasons that tend to keep one under that old tree are in most cases less then plausible. I learned in my life to except the inevitable rule of self reasoning for self preservation, and that rule being “Never ask someone a question of the heart if you already know the answer to it.” Just move the fuck on, especially if you know the response is not going to be the one you are looking for. In most cases I have found in my life that when your waiting for someone to make up their mind about something they already have, and more then likely they are busy planning there life and next move which does not concern you in the fucking least. The reason in most cases you got put on the back burner or are playing second fiddle is because there a coward, it’s not about them trying to avoid hurting your feelings they decided to do that when they put you on hold. I really don’t know how perceptive most people are, but I know one thing and that is you don’t have to be a mind reader to know when you are a person of convenience in someone else’s eyes. This is all very easy to figure out, it’s a matter of weights and measurements, for example. How far out of your way have you gone for this person to please them? How much have you put into this relation, and has it been reciprocated? In most cases the answer will be “FUCK NO!”  But we have a tendency not to mull that over to much because it hurts and most of us don’t like pain, except for a few unbalanced whack jobs that love being love sick and discontented because they lack any self entrust, which should disclose to them right there why no one wants to be around them. Ok maybe that example is a stretch, but my point has been made; in closing I will say this, just because someone’s life is filled with many options that does not always mean there happy ones. There is one thing you can always do and that is “BE GOOD TO YOURSELF.”

I CAN’T HELP WONDER WHY

“I CAN’T HELP WONDER WHY”

BY SHEB

 There’s a canary sunset feathered across the sky of this May Day, and I can’t help wonder where some of my old friends are today and whatever happened to some of those bright eyed girls I left with a tear in there eye. A cold wind still blows from the north as the river turns a hazy, rippling orange. The smell of spring’s sweet perfume melts me inside and takes me back in time and I can’t help but wonder how I can still be here with all my reckless ways when the good guys I know died young and slow. My boots are worn and this beaten river path is so beaten down, and I can’t help wonder what’s up around the bend for me. There’s purple flowers growing along the riverbank and maybe, just maybe a pretty eyed girl will tell me there name, but I can’t help wonder how I survive on three hours of sleep a night. I left the towns of Europe I know so well to find out about America which I left behind so many years ago, but never lacking adventure in my soul, but I still can’t help wonder where I left my soul. The Sun is sinking ever so slow; and the clouds are rolling in as I begin to notice my blue jeans are faded and to long; the weathered heals are torn and the seams are wearing thin, but I can’t help wonder why my skin is so thick, shiny, and bright. My eyes show little age, but a lot of miles; but through it all I can’t help wonder how I always seem to wear a fresh smile. I can’t help wonder why I am the lucky one; perhaps it is because I took a little time to take notice of the guy that painted all the flowers on the Earth, but I can’t help wonder why…but I will be damned if I will let my sweet dreams fade away like this canary colored sunset, but I can’t help wonder why my girl still loves me so much…nope I just can’t help wonder why…

I CAN

I can’t promise you a million acres, but I can guarantee a million rolls in the hay. I can’t give you the Moon, but I can twirl you round and round and make you shine.  I can’t make a rain dance work all the time, but I can make your cold and lonely nights feel like summer haven.

Baby you’re my smile, the light behind my eyes.

 I can’t make you rich, but I can give you a wealthy soul. I can’t teach you to fly, but I can keep you on cloud nine.  I can’t give you gold, but I can still find you sexy in your silver years.

Baby you’re my music, the high notes on low days.

 I can’t say no to you, but I can give you a thousand reasons why.

I can’t give you a treasure map, but I can show you away into me heart. I can’t throw a kiss a thousand miles, but I can love you forever.

Baby you’re my rain bath, you wash me free of fear.

I can’t come up with one reason why I should not love you, but I can love you the way need to be loved. I can’t turn my back on you, but I can shelter you from a storm.

 Baby your smile, simple as that…………

I'M WE

“I AM WELL”

“THEY ARE LONELY BY CHOICE”

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

  I am standing on the bridge over looking Eagle River and I am facing do north. The wind is roaring and the temperature is below freezing.

 The sky is clear and crisp I can see a googolplex of stars. The battery on my laptop is fading , along with the night. I find myself most times ending my day when the rest of America is starting theirs. Many people fear the night find it a lonely place, I thrive on it. I love the hours from midnight to 04:00am. To me that time frame is most fulfilling; I can feel loved, in love and comfortably alone. During the wee hours of my time I do not feel obligated to explain myself, nor justify my actions or explain why I am standing on a bridge, not this bridge anyway.

 I am not lonely for love; I am love.

I am not craving passion; I am passion.

I am not missing my mind; I am my thoughts.

I am not one for pity; I buried it in the sand.

I am not learning to smile; I am my smile.

I am not lonely for a friend; I am my friend.

I am not in search of beauty; I am beautiful.

I am not lost; I am where I want to be.

I am not arrogant, I am cocksure.

I am not that guy; I am Sheb, it’s that simple.

JEB

“HIS NAME WAS JEB”

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

There once was a man named Jeb whom seldom ever slept in a bed. He had long curly hair; tan skin and a crooked smile and ratty jeans seem to be his style. Off Jeb would roam to anywhere but Nome. However if there was a girl there that loved him I suppose for a while he could have called it home.

 Jeb was reckless and kind but half out of his mind; he would stay up for days just to watch waves breaking on the Oregon coast, and when I asked him why he blushed and replied with a sigh as he stuck a little white candle in the sand and then folded his hands as tears weld up in his eyes.

 Jeb is somewhere in the world today, traveling slowly as he makes his way; he may appear lost without rhyme or reason, but if you approach him gently and hold out your hand, you will notice a smile and a well seasoned man.

Jeb is a guy I can’t put a figure on, he is neither here nor there, but seems to end up everywhere.

PIZZA

“A Slice of Pizza & Sheb’s Head”

By Sheb Schebella

 I have dozens of clever spots for things such as keys, wallets, eye glasses, and my passport. One would think with all of these clever spots Laing around the house I would be able to refrain from losing my will at times, or at least keep my heart in a safer place so it would not come up shattered from time to time. However it does happen to the best of us, even the very surface able presented happy ones. Of course I have not lost my will in a great many years, but I remember when the bottle was my best friend and worst enemy. Lately my life has been going well and has been anything shy of hum drum. I never have figured out how to wear my heart out on my sleeve without getting it bruised or broken from time to time. I truly do not believe that there is a 100% sure fire way of protecting one self of such things if they plan to be among the land of the living. I do suppose however life would be a bit tawdry and boring if it was packed with to many guaranties. To me it would be like winning a game you have cheated at, unless of course the thrill was not winning but the idea of not getting caught, and then I can understand the motivation and thrill there. A little espionage always keeps the story attractive, but certainly not with matters of the heart, at least not for me. I have found in my meandering experiences in late that a good way to keep your heart from breaking or staying broke is to give it away, and if your lucky enough perhaps whoever receives it will mend it back to some functional state of happiness. However there has also has been times when I got my heart sent back to me if not literally flung at me in a box marked return to sender , with the “caution this side up” and “fragile” sticker turned upside down, if not completely missing. No matter how clever I think I am or how grey and wise I feel I do believe one thing very much and that is that Love is something you have to risk giving away to be able to keep. I think most people find this to be true as well, whether they play the game or not. When I look at the risk truly involved and then way the options of not playing they seem simple enough to understand. I can wake up lonely everyday until I am dead, or I can create a false identity on 360, My Space, or whatever place one chooses. I have seen people do this for reasons I find to be connected to some sort of mental illness at best, so I will refrain from stereotyping them too profusely. I do wonder however if they keep a loaded gun in their desk drawer at times. What happens if one day you do come out of your shell and you meat someone you have spent countless hours lying to or for a lighter definition pretending to? I guess you’re just fucked, unless of course the thrill was just seeing how far you could get in a relationship based on bullshit, I will let the reader define “Bullshit” for themselves. I know I have deleted people off my 360 page, had them placed on ignore, have accepted their invites back under another character. Here is the thing, they get a rush out of thinking I don’t know; personally I just don’t give a fuck as long as they behave. I have over 200 people on my page, I will accept just about anyone, I try not to judge them, how can I really at times there just cartoons. I have had more gratifying experiences though then bad ones, but the bad ones do seem to stick around longer then I should let them. The thing that amuses me is on 360 and other such sites is the people at times I read about, many are like dogs chasing a car and should they actually ever catch one by persistence of happenstance they would not have a fucking clue how to get to the next level because they have bullshitted themselves so deeply in a hole there’s no fucking way of digging out of it and still appearing clean to the secondary party, however it seems that it is at times only the non-interested third party that seems to notice this before it actually happens, oh-fucking-well.

 What does twist my dick though are people that steal other peoples life experiences and pan them off as their own original thoughts. There is also the person who is so sick and bent fucking twisted that they have the need to clone another’s site. I have had my site cloned and most of my photos bootlegged but I don’t give shit, but I do mind when people steal my words. My words are precious to me; I use them sparingly, and mean every word I write down. When I use words like Love, Friendship, Hate, Cocksucker, and not the good cock sucker but the bad cocksucker I mean them. Words are powerful, just as powerful as a well thrown left handed haymaker. People don’t know it, but in Europe you can get your ass in big trouble portraying to be someone else, meaning cloning another person’s identity. I myself don’t care much about lawyers, courts, appeals, or money so I handle things my way. I do however know that when you put yourself out there on the net, it is a free for all and so that is why I do not get too bent about it. I just feel sorry for the pathetic little warts on the ass of society. On a brighter note though nothing in life is worth trading my smile for  because I have been wise enough to let someone else take care of my heart whom I trust with my life and let me tell you even though there are no guaranties, my days are mush more enjoyable knowing someone loves me and is taking care of the best part of me the best they can. So you see it really does not matter who wants to pretend to be me, because they will never have my heart I gave it away and she stuck it in a very clever spot.

AMERICAS NOT CUTE ANYMORE

“Americas Not Cute Anymore”

“Based on my own meandering observations”

By Sheb Schebella

I wake up this morning to sit down at my computer and begin to read the news about back home in America. Nothing there has seemed to change much. Wall Street companies folding, hurricanes heading for the coast, maybe even back to New Orleans to punish all the people that filed for relieve and took the money and went back home to Dallas, who knows who cares. Then there are the 11 million illegal aliens, looking for work in a tired economy as other Americans struggle to keep their home. Yes illegal immigration is not so cute any more now that the economy is disintegrating the middle class. The liberals for the most part aren’t so liberal at the moment. I remember years back before the war in the Iraq & Afghanistan fired back up, I use to read about women’s right activist that wanted to attend the Virginia Military academy and wanted congress to pass a bill that would allow them to fight in the front lines in full combat ready mechanized units. A woman got pissed at me once, well that is not true many women have been pissed at me, but this particular one was upset with me because she asked me how I felt about having women on the front lines with me. I told her I was strongly against it. She rolled her eyes called me a chauvinistic bastard and then asked me why, told me to give her one good reason. I simply stated that in the event I was critically wounded and she was fighting along side me could she carry me out to a safe zone, she replied probably not. It is difficult to talk people in to fighting if you don’t have a “Leave no one behind policy.” But people just don’t seem to think of things like that. As I said however all these people that thought it was cute and noble to establish illegal aliens rights in America and to bitch because they could not fight in the front lines seem to have all gone home, or rather went to go get a second job to pay there mortgage.

 America loves things that are fashionable. When I worked as an engineer it was fashionable to have Martinis with your lunch, then one day it was taboo green tea became the way to be seen. Then it went from coffee that read 7/11 to being seen walking into work with a Star Bucks Macchiato Latte SNAFU. However many Star Bucks in many cities have closed its doors, a $7.oo dollar a day coffee habit is feeling the squeeze.

 Everyone wants to be P.C. well not everyone, just mainly people who believe in Marxism and others unwilling to better themselves as individuals and stand for there own personal believes. America has become too self-conscious and worried about offending others. The other day I wrote a blast about staying in shape; I got 7 emails on how I was being judgmental. People love to use that safety word “Judgmental” it is designed to protect them, it allows them to fit in neatly to what is socially acceptable. Personally I could be labeled a social outcast and could carless, and there have been times I was. In America very few people find it improper to lean over to someone and tell them to put out there cigarette or to simply give advice to a friend that they should stop smoking. However few seem to have the courage to lean over to the same person and say “Why don’t you try to avoid such huge portions of fast food.” I will tell you why because it has become socially acceptable to be obese in America, if someone can keep their ass inside the width of one ax handle then they are still apart of the in crowd. I can’t even wear medium sized shirts anymore in America in many brands because there just huge. When I was younger I new less then a handful of diabetics and they mainly came from my relatives that where in there 50’s who drank and smoked and ate poorly, with one cousin that noticed his diabetes at 9. On my last trip to the states I was introduced to more diabetics in 3 months then I have ever known in my whole life; people’s children under the age of 11 that were over weight and suffered from diabetes. Then there where the parents that would say “Look at Tommy, he is only 8 and he is 107 pounds, he is going to a pro football player.” Poor kid could barely get out of the sand box, that’s because it was his coffin, it was not very cute.

  Have a safe Labor Day weekend….SHEB

I AM JUST UMMM

“I AM JUST UMMM”

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

I think I will just stop right here and rest a spell. I think I will just sit quietly and observe the lonely behavior of others. Listen to the ill-informed try to dangle coercion and sabotage. It amazes me the length people go to crush another. It amazes me how one can rip another apart. It amazes me how one could be a coward. It enchants me that I am not the same. I was born to bounce, to dust off, to roll my eyes with a cheeky smirk. I care very little about what many people seem to think is important. I like Gummy Bears; I become concerned when my stash gets low. It bothers me when people lack commitment toward something they feel brings joy into there life. I never understood why people enjoy dissecting the movements of another as to allow them selves to feel internally superior. Personally I find most people boring and poorly educated. I can’t stand to be around text book minds. People like to boast that there naive, it’s a comfortable way for them I suppose to say that they have no interest in finding anything out for themselves, that there comfortable with a credulous life. I suppose it is fine to be credulous maybe it’s a blessing as much as I find it to be a curse. Well I don’t know what people hope to score by playing it safe. Personally I just assume getting drug through the mud for a mile wearing my best Pat Boone shoes is better then not going anywhere, at least I still have a good story to tell at the end of the day to who is ever willing to listen. I enjoy how people say “let me save you a lot of heart ache.” or “Let me till you right now, you’re going to regret it.” And perhaps “That person is no good for you.” These people, these supernatural soothsayers can only predict the ides of march only simply because that the are most likely in on the ambush, and if they are not then to bad because that would have made a good story. One thing these people can’t tell you is that they can’t tell you who you will be happy with you.