Status Updates From I Have More Souls Than One

"I see boats moving on the sea. Their sails, like wings of what i see. Bring me a vague inner desire to be, who i was, without knowing what it was, So all recalls my home self and, because, it recalls that, what i am aches in me."

"Of what i am tired, i don't know: It would not serve me at all to know, since the tiredness stays just the same. The wound hurts as it hurts."

"What do i know of what i shall be, i who don't know what i am?."

"Legion live in us;
I think or feel and don’t know
Who it is thinking, feeling.
I am merely the place
Where thinking or feeling is.

I have more souls than one.
There are more ‘I’s than myself.
And still I exist
Indifferent to all.
I silence them: I speak.

The crisscross thrusts
Of what I feel or don’t feel
Dispute in the I I am.
Unknown. They dictate nothing
To the I I know. I write."

"And waves are moving there, far in, in what your tired body is feeling, while still the flute, smiling, is weeping, pallidly mourning."

"Because i lack the divine simplicity, of being, all only, my outside."

"From my village i see as much as from earth one can see of the universe. Therefore my village is as big as any other earth, because, i am the size of what i see."

"I have no ambitions or wants. To be a poet, is no ambition of mine. It is my way of staying alone."

"My soul, is like a shepherd, knows the wind and the sun, and goes hand in hand with, the seasons, to follow, and, to listen. All the peace of nature, without people, comes to sit, by my side. But i remain sad, like a sunset."

just want to say that the peom Tabacaria" (Tobacconist's Shop) is literally gold wrapped in a poem. i so wish that i was able to read Portuguese, just to visit this man's craft in his mother tongue.

Waiting for an ambiguous moment where I can plaster these lines out of my mouth to someone's face, when they say I don't understand why one chooses to write:
"The crisscross thrusts
Of what I feel or don't feel
Dispute in the I I am.
Unknown. They dictate Nothing
To the I I know. I write."

Poem (17.7.14)
"Let's simply have the science of accepting
And, as long as the blood beats in our fountains

The fact he is so aware of the fact of not resisting life but letting it pass through and to be alive and have that fountain pumping. oh so, wonderful <3

you know that feeling when you know you are reading poetry for the pure bliss of going through it, and the book doesn't stop you from feeling that. this feels like that. i am just consciously breezing through the wind of Pessoa's poetry here.