What would happen to the world if we were human? - Fernando Pessoa

To read is to dream, guided by someone else's hand.

I see life as a roadside inn where I have to stay until the coach from the abyss pulls up. I don't know where it will take me, because I don't know anything. I could see this inn as a prison, for I'm compelled to wait in it; I could see it as a social centre, for it's here that I meet others. But I'm neither impatient nor sociable. I leave who will to stay shut up in their rooms, sprawled out on beds where they sleeplessly wait, and I leave who will to chat in the parlours, from where their songs and voices conveniently drift out here to me. I'm sitting at the door, feasting my eyes and ears on the colours and sounds of the landscape, and I softly sing - for myself alone - wispy songs I compose while waiting.

Night will fall on us all and the coach will pull up. I enjoy the breeze I'm given and the soul I'm given to enjoy it with, and I no longer question or seek.

من نفس المكان
يضجر الناس
وأنا من وجودي في ذاتي
أليس خليقاً بيِ ان أضجر؟

روحي تبحث عني..
في الجبال والسهول..
ليتها لا تعثر ابداً عليِّ

هارباً من ذاتي أحيا.
وأنا بذلك حيّ.

- فرناندو بيسوا