The West's Westness, part 3

by cowboylands

Where is the West? It is in you and me and you, too, bucko.

Fresh (or not so fresh) from yet another sojourn into the wilderness of Self, the Great Plains of Novel…my answer can only be that while we goggle at yowling coyotes and saguaro cookie jars, sunsetted cowboys and pretty prairie lasses in way-too-tight jeans, the real West is that frontier between what you know as your self, and what you know as no-self. Call it despair. Call it the wilderness. Call it no man’s land, unmarked territory, death. Sorry to be so melodramatic, but, sweet cheeks, once you’ve even stepped a toe into that place and returned, things like taxes and getting into fights with siblings seems quaint, like gingerbread Victorian towns that need to prove themselves worthy of an Interstate rest area.

Westness can come in two basic shades: optimism and pessimism. When you are face-to-face with that hairy cliffhanger between self and no-self, what are you?

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One Comment to “The West's Westness, part 3”

  1. Maybe all you can do is make a cookie jar out of shapes that look like that in the night…

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