I read these words in Pessoa's Book of Disquiet today:

"Each of us is intoxicated by different things. There’s intoxication enough for me in just existing. Drunk on feeling, I drift but never stray. If it’s time to go back to work, I go to the office just like everyone else. If not, I go down to the river to stare at the waters, again just like everyone else. I’m just the same. But behind this sameness, I secretly scatter my personal firmament with stars and therein create my own infinity."