“I've always been an ironic dreamer, unfaithful to my inner promises.Like a complete outsider, a casual observer of whom I thought I was,I've always enjoyed watching my daydreams go down in defeat.I was never convinced of what I believed in.I filled my hands with sand, called it gold, and opened them up to let it slide through.Words were my only truth.When the right words were said, all was done; the rest was the sand that had always been.”
In this quote by Fernando Pessoa, the speaker reflects on their tendency to be an "ironic dreamer" and how they have often been unfaithful to their own promises. The speaker expresses a sense of detachment from themselves, likening themselves to an outsider and a casual observer of their own life. They admit to enjoying watching their daydreams fail and never truly believing in anything they professed to believe in. The imagery of filling their hands with sand, calling it gold, and then letting it slip away symbolizes their inability to hold onto anything substantial. The speaker finds solace in words, viewing them as the only truth in their life, as they have the power to make everything else fade away like sand slipping through their fingers. This quote captures the speaker's sense of disillusionment and their reliance on words as a source of stability in an otherwise uncertain existence.
In a world that often prioritizes superficiality and conformity, the words of Fernando Pessoa still hold relevance today. The idea of being an "ironic dreamer" and being unfaithful to one's inner promises speaks to the struggle many face in staying true to themselves in a society that often demands conformity. Pessoa's reflections on the fragility of our beliefs and the fleeting nature of our dreams remind us of the importance of authenticity and staying true to ourselves. In a world where appearances often deceive, Pessoa's words serve as a reminder to hold onto our truths and not let them be washed away like sand.
In this powerful quote by Fernando Pessoa, the concept of being an ironic dreamer and the struggle with inner promises is eloquently expressed. Pessoa's introspective musings on the nature of belief, truth, and the transient nature of daydreams serve as a poignant reminder of the complexities of human existence.
Reflecting on the passage by Fernando Pessoa, consider the following questions to deepen your understanding of your own beliefs and actions.
“All I’ve ever done is dream. That, and only that, has been the meaning of my existence. The only thing I’ve ever really cared about is my inner life. My greatest griefs faded to nothing the moment I opened the window onto my inner self and lost myself in watching.I never tried to be anything other than a dreamer. I never paid any attention to people who told me to go out and live. I belonged always to whatever was far from me and to whatever I could never be. Anything that was not mine, however base, always seemed to be full of poetry. The only thing I ever loved was pure nothingness.”
“I've never done anything but dream. This, and this alone, has been the meaning of my life. My only real concern has been my inner life.”
“All that I've done, thought or been is a series of submissions, either to a false self that I assumed belonged to me because I expressed myself through it to the outside, or to a weight of circumstances that I supposed was the air I breathed. In this moment of seeing, I suddenly find myself isolated, an exile where I'd always thought I was a citizen. At the heart of my thoughts I wasn't I.”
“May I at least carry, to the boundless possibility contained in the abyss of everything, the glory of my disillusion like that of a great dream, and the splendor of not believing like a banner of defeat; a banner in feeble hands, but still and all a banner, dragged through mud and the blood of the weak but raised high for who knows what reason - whether in defiance, or as a challenge, or in mere desperation - as we vanish into quicksand. No one knows for what reason, because no one knows anything, and the sand swallows those with banners as it swallows those without. And the sand covers everything: my life, my prose, my eternity. I carry my awareness of defeat like a banner of victory.”
“Sadly I write in my quiet room, alone as I have always been, alone as I will always be. And I wonder if my apparently negligible voice might not embody the essence of thousands of voices, the longing for self expression of thousands of lives, the patience of millions of souls resigned like my own to their daily lot, their useless dreams, and their hopeless hopes.”
“I never tried to be anything other than a dreamer. I never paid any attention to people who told me to go out and live. I belonged always to whatever was far from me and to whatever I could never be. Anything that was not mine, however base, always seemed to be full of poetry. The only thing I ever loved was pure nothingness.”