Saturday, May 23, 2009

Goodbye Ink and Paper Vingt Cinq

Recalling who I was, I see somebody else.
In memory the past becomes the present.
Who I was is somebody I love,
But only in a dream.
The longing that torments me now
Is not from me or by the past invoked,
But hers who live in me
Behind blind eyes.
Nothing knows me but the moment.
My own memory is nothing, and I feel
That who I am and who I was
Are two contrasting dreams.
I digress.

I was reading Pessoa this morning and as I fumbled through pages I caught sight of a poem.
"If you want to kill yourself how come you don't kill yourself ?"
The poem provides a comical view on depression and self-loathing.
Some lines so you can get the general idea:
"And in any case, if you're sick of existing,
Be sick with some dignity".
"You hesitate at the thought of better days ahead.
Maybe it will get harder if you go on enduring than if you stopped enduring...
You hesitate at the thought of those who love you.
Maybe things will get worse for others if you go on living..."

Once upon a time, whenever I was tempted to sit in the bathtub of bad feelings, I would read this poem and have a good laugh at my own expense.

That's all I have time for today...


  1. It's amazing how drastic a person can change in such a short period of time...
    Sometimes I look back on the person I was three years ago and I'm shocked. And I know in another three years I will do the same.

    I better not read that poem. I might actually take it seriously these days.

  2. Today I'll make a point of picking some flowery, cheerful ones and make a bouquet especially for you. That's a promise.

  3. It's a funny thing, that "bathtub of bad feeling" tends to be filled with very warm and comforting water. Ever wonder why we keep diving in and why we soak so long? The downside, of course, is that one is inevitably paralyzed by the numbing toxic liquid of self-loathing.

    Self introspection is a dangerous and bottomless whirlpool.

    In other news, I believe I heartily loath Pessoa.