journal features

the apartment next to ours

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2012.11.13

I saw the woman who lives in the apartment in the building next to ours. It's been 21 months or so, and despite our kitchen and hers being separated by only ~3 meters, I've never before seen a glimpse of her. Which is weird, because the lights are always on in that room (I'm assuming it's a kitchen, it's cluttered with stuff) and in the other room we can see from our bathroom (which has absolutely nothing in it except a bare light bulb).

I mean; I assume it's an apartment?

Just as I assume that the basement "apartment" I sometimes glimpse a block from here that has no curtains and you can see that it's stacked to the ceiling with chairs. Still haven't figured out what that could be about.

Odd street.

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