dust
When do you quit trying? When do you go “enough is enough?” We’ve all thought about it. We all know other people who’s thought about it. Is it the act of a coward or the act of someone picking their time? Is there a right time? Only god knows, and he’s not saying. Even the voices get quiet.
Some of us sail through life without a hitch. We never experience the dark side of things. Yeah, we see it on the TV, but we never have to deal with it. Every day’s a Saturday morning. Then there’s those of us who seem to stumble right out of the womb. We’re always just a fingers grasp from getting it right. You try to stick it out. You know, do it the old cowboy way.
I was raised on old westerns, the good guy wore the white hat and the bad guy was always in black. The good guy was clean shaven, loved his horse and always got the girl. The bad guy was always dirty, hairy jawed and never got the girl. The girl always ran from us. The ending was always the same, the good guy was outnumbered and the odds were against him. But he always came through the cowboy way. He reached out for that one last gut-check and he pulled himself up by his boot straps.
He countered all the odds, beat down the villain and rode off into the sunset with the girl. He never gave up. He had to always see the next sunrise. Some of us are tired of trying, we just want to lie down and let the dust take us. We’ll never get the girl and the bad people always seem stronger. Where’s that last gut-check? Where’s that sunrise?
What’s to keep you going when the dark never wants to leave? The voices can’t tell you, they’re just as frightened as you are. It seems so simple yet complex. Just keep stepping forward, just keep breathing. But you’re so tired. Your bones ache and pain comes with every breath. Through your blurred eyes you see the answer just a fingers grasp away. What color is your cowboy hat?
"and the monkey flipped the switch"
posted by Greg Beck at Tuesday, September 13, 2005
4 Comments:
My cowboy hat has always been gray or brown. I know the world is not black and white, and some times one has to be an ass, sometimes one has to be an angel.
Hope is the only thing we have, that is why people hope that there is a heavan, so they have a place to go when they die. The more hope a person has, no matter what color cowboy hat he or she is wearing, the better they are able to survive.
Awesome post. Of course my cowboy hat is brown. Like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I came up in the era of the anti-hero. I know I won't win against the good guys or the bad but I sure as hell want to go out shooting. An exit like the last scene from "The Wild Bunch" would be nice.
Tal Death knows were Your coming from hears the city of dust calling Me home all the time too.
"All men and all women, have within themselves despicable elements, cruel things and cowardly things, things vicious, and greedy and selfish, things ugly that we hide from others, and most of all from ourselves. The human being is a chaos of cruelties and nobilities, of hatreds and of loves, of resentments and respects, of envies and admirations. He contains within himself in his ferments, much that is base and much that is worthy. These are old truths, but few men truly understand them. pg 309 Raiders of Gor
"Raider"
The Black Smith never wears a hat. He just does his job, helps the town grow and prosper, and is always there when you need him. He makes things, he is a repairman, Vet, and a hell of a help in a fight. He only uses his gun to hunt game, but is deadly with an axe handle or heavy hammer. He is a father, lover and over all good man as long as you don't cross him or try and cheat him. He knows what's right and what's wrong. He is simple yet not stupid. All he needs is a good dog, a good women and a hot fire and he is happy.
That's my hat. The hat of heat and flame, helping and living as best I can.
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