/lit/ - Literature

"I feel like fleeing. Like fleeing from what I know, fleeing from what’s
mine, fleeing from what I love. I want to depart, not for impossible
Indias or for the great islands south of everything, but for any place at
all – village or wilderness – that isn’t this place. I want to stop seeing
these unchanging faces, this routine, these days. I want to rest, far
removed, from my inveterate feigning. I want to feel sleep come to me as
life, not as rest. A cabin on the seashore or even a cave in a rocky
mountainside could give me this, but my will, unfortunately, cannot."
- Fernando Pessoa