O me, O life

O ME! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless–of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light–of the objects mean–of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all–of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest–with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring–What good amid these, O me, O life?


That you are here–that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Walt Whitman, in Leaves of Grass



e quando não aguentava mais, pousava a cabeça dentro das mãos. Segurava o peso imenso da minha cabeça: mundo: tapava os olhos com as mãos para sofrer dentro da escuridão,
dentro de um silêncio que fingia.

José Luís Peixoto, in Cemitério de Pianos


I resigned
From myself
Took a break
As someone else