Automatic Writings

Red Sand

The blindfold goes on.

And now I can see, what I had lost that night.

Not seeing it, but recalling its scent.

I was fallen. Beautifully so.

I had tumbled into a stark reality.

Tasting life, in all its glory.

Remembering you, through your sacrifice, and blood.

I can only recall.

I, will, now, begin, to, write, in, a, manner, which, I, feel,


Eyes closed. Open air. Porous skin.

Draped, in black.

Vision, tunneled below.

And Dirt.

Not a life-giving, moistened soil.

No, not that kind at all.

A beautiful, dry, red-hued,


Desert borne.

The kind you can strike to create, clouds of dust.

To me: truth. Lifeless truth.

Nothing to abhor or frighten. No ambition to become.

Peaceful red sand, that I toil with my hand,

To receive a moments of peace, in a God-forsaken world.

Draped in black so I see nothing, but this.

Peace in darkness, and one thing. A world of its own.

So simple. So simple it’s not even real.

A delightful thought, who could have thought, such a thing could be so.

So what?

Delight in nothing: a sign of the times.

Life in the red sands, speak to no man.

Ears burning, addictions yearning.

It takes your blood to know.

Such sickness.

I am fallen.

Fallen is how I desire to be.

It’s the only sane response.

And when I lose you — oh yes, I always lose you — I fear you won’t return.

I never knew you. No I’m not so sure I ever did.

I notice nothing. I see nothing.

And you, good sir, are you there?

Do you know the red sand?

There is something wretched all around me.

Frustrations grow, and I know it’s me.

Blood in the sand to see.


I don’t know the way.

There’s a secret passage,

that can only be fallen into,

when things become Real.

But things are never real, I’m afraid.

To escape such: a pain, a death.

Why is the death neccesary?

The effect, reality.

You may have never known that which I speak.

Never even had the chance.

And I’m not worthy of a different fate.

But you have shown me this.

If you’re there. But I don’t know.

I never knew you.

I was fallen. I fell to my knees in the blissful red sands.

This is mere patchwork. It cannot do it justice.

The mind must be drained.

Solitude and darkness.

I cannot live like that but it’s the only way to live?

Chalky red sand, fine and compactable,

The very best kind.