I am the Lonesome Cowboy. I did not see you, I do not see you, I shall not see you. I am always alone, slowly drifting from high plains to low valleys, crossing ranges, humming quietly to the sky, forever floating along, entirely without hearth or home, lacking all essential amenities, solitary. And good night to you then.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy, sitting quietly and contentedly 'neath the overhang of an immense boulder, waiting for the night air to bring me a whiff of the scent of whatever it deems most interesting this evening, if any scent at all. So be it. My life is but an interlude, a wait, a short time spent learning whatever lessons may shuffle along my way. Peace, then. Peace to you and to the world, and may you take the other trail, your own trail, so that we may never need to face one another in that distressing way that silent, passing strangers always awkwardly do.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. I eat all the cookies in the bag without a care in the world, or a pal to share them with. And who could really ask for more?
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. Some call me Ed. Others never call. Usually them. Those. The ones who never call. Maybe if I got a phone...but no. Not I.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. You do not know me, nor I you, and so it is likely to remain. Be well. Do not seek me out, for I am not there, nor shall I ever be there again.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. You know me, you have seen me, but did not realize that fact. And were I to appear immediately, in front of your eyes, your face, your self, you would neither recognize nor even see me, such as I am, indistinct, indirect, incomplete, for that is my nature.
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Me? I don't ever care.
