If only Twitter existed in the olden days of Japan, this guy would be making bank off of his concise observations, racking in the money from his immense following and endless advertisements. Just one of the haikus on the back of book is enough to reel you into his mental aesthetic :
“Whenever I sleep
With my socks on
I have bad dreams.”
But alas, he died before the age of the machine, and people still read his work. Maybe his bad dreams were about veering off the meandering path of his fate, since your feet follow your destiny afterall.
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