23. Juli 2017

      north
west and east
      south

Dear Nobody,

dying Is not the worse thing that can happen to a man. Look at me. I've been dead for three days and now I've finally found my peace.
You used to say that my life was hanging by a thread. Maybe so, but I'm afraid that's your life that's hanging by a thread now. Well, that's one. Let's get the other! And there's quite a few people who'd like to cut that thread. Yeah, I guess it's your way of feeling alive. You see, it's the whole difference between you and me. I've always tried to steer away from trouble but you seem to be looking for it all the time. But, I must admit, you've been able to solve your share even If you like others to take the credit. This way you can remain a Nobody. You got it all nicely figured out. But you gambled too big this time and there's too many people who know you're somebody after all and you won't have much time for playing your funny games. They'll make life harder
and harder for you until you too meet somebody who wants to put you down In History. And so you'll find out that the only way to become a Nobody again Is to die. Anyhow, from now on you'll be walking In my boots and maybe you won't be laughing so loud anymore. But you can still do one thing: You can preserve a little of that Illusion that made my generation tick. Maybe you'll do it In your own funny way but we'll be grateful just the same. 'Cause looking back seems to me we were all a bunch of romantic fools who still believed that a good pistol and quick showdown could solve everything. But then the West used to be wide open spaces with lots of elbow room when you never ran Into the same person twice. At the time you came along it was changed. Got small and crowded and we kept bumping on the same people all the time. But If you're able to run around In the West peacefully, catching flies it's only because fellows like me were there first. The same fellows you wanna see written up In history books. 'Cause people need something to believe In, like you say. But you won't be able to have it
your own way much longer because the country ain't the same anymore and I'm already feeling the strange In myself. But, what's worse, violence has changed too. It's growing and got organized and a good pistol don't mean a damn thing anymore. But I guess you must know all this 'cause it's your kind of time, not mine. And I also figured out the moral to your grandpa story. The one about the cow that cover the little bird of cow pie to keep it warm and then the coyote hold it out and eat it. It's the moral of these new times of yours. Folks that throw dirt on you aren't always trying to hurt you. And folks that pull you out of a jam aren't always trying to help you. But the main point is:
When you're up to your nose In shit, keep your mouth shut. This Is why people like me gotta go. And this Is why you faked than gun fight to get me out of the West clean. Anyhow, it's getting to be one more old timer. And the years don't make wisdom, they just make old age. One can be young In years and be old In hours, like you. I guess I'm talking like a damn preacher, but it's your fault.
What can you expect of a national monument?
Well, keep your mind and heart open. And If you ever meet one of those many I almost never meet you can keep each other company and it won't be so lonely for you. They say distance makes friendship grow stronger. Maybe so. 'Cause after three days without you dogging my tracks I kind of miss you. I really gotta sign off now, so even If you were a stinking nosy troublemaker all the time...


thanks for everything just the same



P.S: just one more piece of advice from an old timer: When you're getting a shave and cut be sure the right man is wearing the jacket.
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