That shit with the Walker CW horse shit kinda pulled out of me a bit of memories from the past. Memories about my own father.

What does it mean to be a man of the west? Our traditions seem but mist in the air in these strange and Peter Pan fantasy days.

I can wish to be a man. I conceive of it if I dream and look up at the north star and cast my childest hopes there to never never land. But it would be bullshit really.

A man has duties and sense of honor. A man has a name that name is his word. It is his pledge of responsibility to his ancestors before him. Who did hope and work to achieve a modest means of a future they handed down and down to him to carry on and to uphold a legacy of honor and pride in the stories of courage buried deep in blood and Iron.

A man is not a pussy. A man faces the realities of life with grit and gusto. A man is born in conflict. Self doubt comes but a father’s words and stories push a man on. To fight and war against fear and pirates of destiny.

Some men fought and died defending the truth. Some men gave in to riches and traded their future for sex and selfish living.

What will you do? What will we do? We men of the west?

Warm Regards,

Guardiandogg