All Beginnings Are Involuntary.

A Being Who, As I Grew Older, Lost Imagination, Emotion, A Type Of Intelligence, A Way Of Feeling Things - All That Which, While It Made Me Sorry, Did Not Horrify Me. But What Am I Experiencing When I Read Myself As If I Were Someone Else? On Which Bank Am I Standing If I See Myself In The Depths?

And, Like The Great Damned Souls, I Shall Always Feel That Thinking Is Worth More Than Living.

The Human Soul Is An Abyss

Oh Salty Sea, How Much Of Your Salt Is Tears From Portugal?

I've Always Rejected Being Understood. To Be Understood Is To Prostitute Oneself. I Prefer To Be Taken Seriously For What I'm Not, Remaining Humanly Unknown, With Naturalness And All Due Respect