Writing itself would seem to be… marginal to a vast, empty, unarticulated center called reality that was displaced more and more by it.
“I would sum up my fear about the future in one word: boring. And that’s my one fear: that everything has happened; nothing exciting or new or interesting is ever going to happen again… the future is just going to be a vast, conforming suburb of the soul.”
J. G. Ballard | RE/Search #8/9, 1984