journal features

one more for the road (or not)

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-eight years and a million words

Tokyo, 2008.03.06

I hopped on my bike this morning, raring to get to the office early to catch up for the day I'd missed yesterday.

I was ~400 metres from home when I had a flat. Happily, I'd stopped to take some photos on the way, so I didn't get too far from home. I decided to turn around and walk it home rather than change the tire where I was.

I'd been riding on one of the tubes I'd patched, and was not entirely surprised that it had gone flat -- the patch had spanned two suspiciously parallel splits in the tube and I wasn't sure that the small patch would do the trick.

It turned into a long day at the office. I didn't leave 'til well over ten hours had passed; the icing on a bad week's cake.

rand()m quote

The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to such a pass that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love, and in order to occupy and distract himself without love he gives way to passions and coarse pleasures, and sinks to bestiality in his vices, all from continual lying to other men and to himself.

—Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov