April 30, 2008

The Book of Disquiet, text 58

More Pessoa:
Each of us is intoxicated by different things. There's intoxication enough for me in just living. Drunk on feeling I drift but never stray. If it's time to go back to work, I go to the office just life everyone else. If not, I go down to the river to stare at the waters, again just like everyone else. I'm just the same. But behind this sameness, I secretly scatter my personal firmament with stars and therein create my own infinity.
Text 58
I think even behind the last sameness there's more of the same. Doesn't everyone secretly scatter their personal firmament with stars and therein create their own infinity? If not, why not?

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