I am the Lonesome Cowboy. Silence is my name, stealth is my game, shadow is my home. Quiet backwaters of life are my preferred haunts, and few if any are ever my companions.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. I do not advertise. No room for a billboard on my horse, not willing to pull a trailer, and mostly shy, though every now and again I do become tempted to howl into the night, though quietly.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. That about says it then, whatnot and all.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy. I sit, combing my hair, all the day long, singing gently, gently to it, my lone, lonesome hair. And when it is gone, this hair of mine, I will buy a cap and a cup, and wear the cap as I shuffle along, collecting stray coins with my cup in memory of my last lone hair.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy, watching the stars by lantern-light, counting pebbles, breathing deeply, slowly, at rest, waiting for a sign that somehow this is all for a purpose.
I am the Lonesome Cowboy, slow to arrive, reluctant to leave, never seen, never regarded with undue respect, always thoughtful, full of regret, but free. Still free. I am free.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? Enjoying deep, long conversations with my sock puppet, Ferd.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
