The Sand

For the record, if ever I fucked up and had to admit I'd made expensive, expensive mistakes. Expensive beyond my means or morality - I'd go into the desert to die. You know run away from problems rather than confront them or have to apologise.
Except I wouldn't go to a real desert. I'd go to the dune known to me as 'the dune' in my camping ground. Every year I climb 250m of soft sand heated up to a cool 45C without stopping. I only use my feet not hands and when I reach the top and walk aways until I reach a dead grotto. It kind of reminds me of Lord Byron's 'Ozymandias' which I think was the Greek name for Ramasis or one of them egyptians with the funny hats which is about a broken shattered plinth with some feet on it that was engraved 'I am Ozymandias, look on my and despair' a poem about the mighty falling with the passage of time. I say kind of reminds me of it because I can't remember it except for that last line.
Dimitri Martin said if you have a cactus and it dies that means you are less nurturing than a desert. I think thats why I'd like to sit and think about what I did until my body packs in on top of the dune. Of course if it is winter I would probably die of pnuemonia which just wouldn't be satisfactory way to die in a desert so I'd hope my collapse would come in the summer months if it ever did at all.
I mean really I hope it never comes at all because I'd rather not have to spend time contemplating my stupidity I'd rather succeed to the point where I create my own Authentic Saloon and sit at the bar listening to Robert Johnson woundering what he has the blues over.
But on the other hand as Topol would say I can see the spiritual value of the desert, I understand those fools who wander out to find themselves, I'd be sensible though and wander out to peacefully end myself*

*and hopefully work in some kind of spectacular explosion like the plastic shark in the Adam West Batman Movie. If I just keeled over from a sitting position and then BANG! when I hit the ground, that would be awesome.