Status Updates From Livro do Desassossego

I exist without knowing it and will die without wanting to. I'm the gap between what I am and am not, between what I dream and what life has made of me, the fleshly and abstract average of things that are nothing, I being likewise nothing.

Every spoken word double-crosses us. The only tolerable form of communication is the written word, since it isn’t a stone in a bridge between souls but a ray of light between stars (185, #210).

he lowk just depressed in a way a man with no friends would be depressed