[Aya Fujioka]
(via wood s lot)

The newspaper was the same as usual. He wondered if there had been a gap of a week, for there was almost nothing new to be found. If this was a window on the world outside, the glass was frosted.... There wasn't a single item of importance. A tower of illusion, all of it, made of illusory bricks and full of holes. If life were made up only of important things, it really would be a dangerous house of glass, scarcely to be handled carelessly. But everday life was exactly like the headlines. And so everybody, knowing the meaningless of existence, sets the center of his compass at his own home. (93-94)

--from The Woman in the Dunes, Kobo Abe