Nor, in fact, it was visible: it was like something about to appear, equally throughout, as if it hesitated to be revealed.
And what feeling prevailed? The impossibility of having any feeling, the heart all broken to pieces in the mind,
feelings all in a jumble, conscious existence in a stupor, and the heightening of some faculty akin to hearing -
but in the soul - in order to apprehend a definitive, useless revelation that's always on the verge of appearing,
like truth, and that always remains, like truth, the twin of what never appears.
Even the desire to sleep, remembered by the mind, has withered because mere yawning seems like
too much of an effort. Even to stop seeing hurts the eyes. And in the soul's complete and colourless
renunciation, only external, distant sounds constitute what's left of the impossible world.
Ah, another world, other things, another soul with which to feel them, another mind with which to know
this soul! Anything, even tedium - anything but this general blurring of the soul and things, this bluish,
forlorn indefiniteness of everything!(Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, Fragement #385)
This is my entry for the "Dark Side of Autumn" contest held by #Trees-With-character
Featured by: [link] [link] [link] [link] [link] [link]© by Florian Schmidt
All images and textures from my own resources.
My works are not stock and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
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