or about pessoa, who is neither me nor himself:It sometimes happens - and it always happens to me in a single rush - that in the midst of my sensations there arises within me a tiredness of life so terrible I can't even formulate a hypothesis for some action that might dominate it. As a remedy to this situation, suicide seems uncertain; death, even supposing it entailed a loss of awareness, is still not absolute. This fatigue does not inspire ceasing to exist - which may or may not be possible - but something much more horrible and profound, the ceasing to exist of something that in no way can exist.
[...]
I write the way others sleep, and my entire life is nothing but a receipt I have to sign.
Within the henhouse from which it goes to kill, the rooster sings hymns to freedom because it was given two roosts.
