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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,

Necessary.

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,

Dirt.

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.

Unsustainable.

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.

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