If I write what I feel, it's to reduce the fever of feeling. What I confess is unimportant, because everything is unimportant.
In Fernando Pessoa's words, there is a profound exploration of the act of self-expression and its purpose. Writing becomes a therapeutic process, a means to cool the intense heat of emotion—almost as if to prevent feelings from overwhelming the individual. This idea resonates deeply with the human experience of managing internal chaos; we often pour out our raw emotions through words, seeking relief or clarity. Pessoa suggests that the specifics of what is confessed are trivial, implying a recognition that much of our inner turmoil and the stories we tell ourselves or others are ultimately inconsequential in the grand scheme of life. This perspective invites reflection on the nature of significance and the tendency to assign importance to personal struggles or internal conflicts which may, in the cosmic context, be fleeting or insignificant. It also reveals an almost stoic acceptance of life's transient nature, emphasizing humility and the understanding that many of our perceived problems are ephemeral. The act of writing, then, becomes more about managing one's emotional state than about revealing crucial truths. Pessoa's meditation encourages a contemplative approach to feelings—acknowledging them, expressing them, but also recognizing their impermanence and insignificance overall. This can offer comfort, suggesting that in the grand continuum of existence, individual suffering and confession are but minor waves in an endless sea. Such insight can foster a sense of peace and detachment, reminding us to cherish the moment but also to embrace the transient essence of our emotional life.
