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A couple of years ago I was hit by a car while crossing the road on a zebra-crossing. I got projected through the air a few metres and landed on the road, butt first. Luckily the guy who hit me was going slowly and stopped once he'd hit me. I remember it quite vividly and it really did feel like everything was in slow-motion. What I remember most is landing on the road and letting out the loudest scream of my life. Funnily enough the feeling I remember the most is being incredibly angry. Thankfully I wasn't badly hurt.
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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.
Fernando Pessoa, 1918
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