logical inter-connections
I put dreams before life to such an extent that I manage in my verbal intercourse ( I have no other) to continue dreaming, and to continue, by means of the opinions and sentiments of others, to have, in the fluid line of individuality, an amorphous life.
Other people are channels or furrows through which the waters of the sea flow, but only as those people please. The curved course of their tendencies is marked by the flashes of the sun in the water in a way that is much more real than the dryness of those people could do it.
My rapid analyses may make me seem like a parasite in my relations with other people, but what actually happens is that I oblige them to be the parasites of my last emotion. I take possession of the shell of their individuality. I copy their footsteps in the clay of my soul, but I step down harder than they and by incorporating those footsteps into my consciousness, I have taken their steps and walked their ways for them.
Generally, out of my habit of duplicating myself and carrying out two different mental tasks at the same time, I – even as I adapt myself excessively and lucidly to their feelings – am analyzing within myself their unknown moods, making a purely objective analysis of what they are and what they think. Thus, in dreams and without giving up my uninterrupted daydreaming, I proceed, not only living the refined essence of their (at times) dead emotions, but understanding and classifying the logical inter-connections among the various forces in their spirit, which at times exist in a natural state within their souls.
And while all this is going on, nothing of their physical features, their way of dressing, or their gestures escapes me. At the same time, I live their dreams, the soul of their instincts, as well as their bodies and their attitudes. In a grand, unified dispersion, I situate myself within them, I cultivate them, and during every moment of the conversation I am a multitude of beings, conscious and unconscious, analyzed and analytic, all deployed as if on an open fan.
Other people are channels or furrows through which the waters of the sea flow, but only as those people please. The curved course of their tendencies is marked by the flashes of the sun in the water in a way that is much more real than the dryness of those people could do it.
My rapid analyses may make me seem like a parasite in my relations with other people, but what actually happens is that I oblige them to be the parasites of my last emotion. I take possession of the shell of their individuality. I copy their footsteps in the clay of my soul, but I step down harder than they and by incorporating those footsteps into my consciousness, I have taken their steps and walked their ways for them.
Generally, out of my habit of duplicating myself and carrying out two different mental tasks at the same time, I – even as I adapt myself excessively and lucidly to their feelings – am analyzing within myself their unknown moods, making a purely objective analysis of what they are and what they think. Thus, in dreams and without giving up my uninterrupted daydreaming, I proceed, not only living the refined essence of their (at times) dead emotions, but understanding and classifying the logical inter-connections among the various forces in their spirit, which at times exist in a natural state within their souls.
And while all this is going on, nothing of their physical features, their way of dressing, or their gestures escapes me. At the same time, I live their dreams, the soul of their instincts, as well as their bodies and their attitudes. In a grand, unified dispersion, I situate myself within them, I cultivate them, and during every moment of the conversation I am a multitude of beings, conscious and unconscious, analyzed and analytic, all deployed as if on an open fan.
-Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
