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@tommyshinda
I was frightened even by God. I could not believe in His love, only in His punishment. Faith. That, I felt, was the act of facing the tribunal of justice with oneās head bowed to receive the scourge of God. I could believe in hell, but it was impossible for me to believe in the existence of heaven.
Dazai Osamu, No Longer Human
Last year nothing happened The year before nothing happened And the year before that nothing happened. ā¦Of course all kinds of things actually did take place, but when I try to recall them now, I experience that same feeling that nothing happened.
Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun
I yearned with such desperation for āfreedomā that I became weak and tearful.
Dazai Osamu, No Longer Human
To be sure, since childhood I have been mostly concerned about doing things right and proper. Itās not that my soul is so serious but that Iām just stiff and awkward and never have been able to be innocent and lighthearted and easy with people. Thatās why I always lose out. Maybe itās because my emotions are too deep.
Dazai Osamu, āDecember 8thā
Weāre all a bunch of clowns. If you want to see a farce, look in the mirror. A man crushed by reality puts on a show of endurance. If thatās beyond your comprehension, dear reader, then you and I will never understand each other. Lifeās a farce, so we might as well make it a good one.
Dazai Osamu, Flowers of Buffoonery
I stroked the trunk of a pine tree. The tree trunk was alive and warm like blood was coursing through it. I crouched down, surprised by the strong smell of grass at my feet, and scooped up some dirt in both hands. I was impressed by the weight of the dampness. To say nature lives is obvious, but a stronger feeling of realism comes with natural scents. But that wonder vanished in about ten minutes. Then I felt nothing. Numbness set in, and indifference returned.
Dazai Osamu, Pandoraās Box
But donāt you realize just a little that Iāve wanted to live a normal life? And how hard Iāve worked for it? Iāve been hanging by a thread, and itāll break with a bit more weight. I tried my best to be careful, though. You see that, donāt you? Iām not weak, my troubles are just too heavy. Itās stupid to talk like this. But if I donāt speak out loud and clear, people are taken in by my cheeky manner. Even you are. āHeās only acting when he talks about his troublesā ā thatās how casually you all take me.
Dazai Osamu, āPutting Granny out to Dieā from Dazai Osamu: Selected Stories and Sketches
Depression and Anxiety is like radiation. Thereās always a little bit of it in the background but not enough to kill you. Then once in a while you get a free trip to Chernobyl.
They say that people who like summer flowers die in the summer. I wonder if itās trueā¦I like roses best. But they bloom in all four seasons. I wonder if people who like roses best have to die four times over again.
Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun
People were boring: there was no way around it. They annoyed him in every way. They were just little dogs yapping at the heels of the big dogs walking down the street. He could not be bothered to feel anything about them, not resentment or envy or anger. Nothing in the mountains had annoyed him in this way, not the animals, the birds, the trees, the rivers.
Sakaguchi Ango, In the Forest, Under Cherries in Full Bloom
I was so fed up with things that I grew sick of myself too, enough that I didnāt want to show my wretched self to anyone else.
Oda Sakunosuke, āImmaculateā
If only you could understand the sadness of the ones who grow the delicate flowers of buffoonery, protecting them from but the slightest gust of wind and always on the verge of despair!
Dazai Osamu, Flowers of Buffoonery
I thought deeply, deeply, over my own attitude of the bystander which has been with me since I was born. I possess no incurable illness. Yet I am one fated since birth to be a bystander. From the time when I first began to play with other children, and even when I grew to adulthood and made my way in the world, and with every kind of person in society, I have never been able to throw myself into the whirlpool and enjoy myself to the depths of my being, no matter what kind of excitement may have stirred in me.
Mori Ågai, āGhost Storiesā from Youth and Other Stories
The sensation of happiness might be something like faintly glittering gold sunken at the bottom of the river of sorrow.
Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun
