Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.

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Blog -

Sun, 05 Sep, 2021 10.26 UTC

I awake again at four in the morning. A hair metal band whose name I'll not mention distributed to me (by means of a convoluted series of exchanging hands) a cassette in 1984 that had a song on it claiming that _four in the morning came without a warning_. I was sitting in my first dead grandmother's house, in some sort of _sitting room_ reserved usually only for me, when I first listened to this piece of music (I laughingly call it a piece of music). I disagree with the sentiment. Four in the morning did n...

Tue, 31 Aug, 2021 00.00 UTC

Despite the very productive and positive initial two months of my stay in Praha, the resultant displacement and depression that followed taught me that I no longer belong there. My primary goal was to _relive_ a portion of my past that, though incredibly fecund with lasting friendships and well-remembered lunacy, in the end, led me down a path of self-destruction. Since my exile in 2009, I became something very different. Yes, my core of positive cynicism remains, as well as my absurd sense of humour, but ...

Tue, 17 Aug, 2021 08.42 UTC

Lately, mornings have been painful yet fruitful. My early waking insomnia continues. I attempted to go to sleep last night at approximately midnight, and that worked well. I awoke several times during the night with a dry throat and wondered if I'd had too much sugar the day before, but could not recall what would've contained sugar that I'd consumed. I fell back asleep quickly each time. Came 6.30, however, and I knew it was all over. Now I sit in front of **Tahr** (my Cirrus7 _desktop_ PC) and type. I a...

Sun, 15 Aug, 2021 00.00 UTC

Kenji Kihara weaves a tapestry of sound about the room as I type into an (almost) empty Vim buffer once again. It's been quite a while, or so it seems. The impetus for this entry was actually my joining of a small _Virtual City_ called **Nightfall City**. I sit disconsolate on the moors of **Dusk's End**, or rather, any entry that ends up in my Gemini feed does. Can blog entries be disconsolate? I posit that they can emit a sensation of disconsolateness. I'm not sure this one will achieve such a feat, howev...

Mental models
Sat, 03 Jul, 2021 00.00 UTC

My coffee consumption this morning has possibly not been healthy. I can feel the jittery roughness in my mind from over-caffeination. Yesterday was much the same, but from a combination of black tea throughout the day and a _shot_ of Michal's special cold brew coffee. Replacing one addictive substance for another doesn't seem very intelligent. In my case, that'd be replacing alcohol with caffeine. The concept reminds me of Christian and his nicotine gum. I shall limit myself to two _servings_ of caffeinated...

Sat, 08 May, 2021 06.58 UTC

I got what I wanted, after all. And what was that? I got what I wanted - to be alone. And here I sit on the bed in James's guest room, alone with the eidolon who writes words into this online journal. He pops up from time to time, but not as frequently as I'd like. Of course, James is in the other room, so I am not as "alone" as I will be in less than a week when I move to my own flat, and if I really wanted to, I could walk over there and talk to him, but I don't think it'd quell my mental storm. Or perhap...

Wed, 17 Mar, 2021 09.30 UTC

Concerning Roger Trigaux's death: Alas, one of my favourite composers has died. His music has been an assuaging and alarming factor in my life since 1998. During the latter years of the 90s, what some would call the _golden age of web pages_, both _Univers Zero_ and _Present_ had crude websites up detailing this and that about each band and dubious information about current events. These sites also hosted samples of the music itself. I don't recall actually listening to anything from the _Present_ at the t...

Sat, 06 Mar, 2021 00.00 UTC

Lately, and possibly because I've been reading the book _Sapiens_, I've been musing over imagined social constructs and their different levels and interconnectedness. The books relates that all social constructs are birthed from human imagination. I've had this thought before, as well, and actually discussions with my long lost friend Jayson on the very topic. I'm unsure if we put it as succinctly as the book has, however. Congratulations to the author. In recent years, I have referred to the whole scumdugg...

Tue, 02 Mar, 2021 13.15 UTC

This morning, I mailed a box full of guitar pedals to James. Along with giving boxes and suitcases of things to Dani, it is one of the first tangible steps towards freedom from my current emotional stagnation. The impact on my local environs will be substantial. In fact, it already is. It keeps me awake. I've practised mental isolation enough that I can usually push the thoughts of how Marisa is going to feel aside, but I am still vulnerable, especially during times of food coma duress. Why _food coma dures...

Mon, 01 Mar, 2021 00.00 UTC

I'm digitising a cassette that I recall nothing about. It's something Tony sent me ~20 years ago, possibly slightly less. The first piece is simply bass punctuations over a warbly synth. In fact, I like it. The stark minimalism is appealing. Funnily enough, were I to do this sort of thing, I believe it would get approval from the _crowd_. Not that I'm necessarily looking for approval, but I have found that the more minimalistic my output is, the more (at least immediate) positive feedback I get. This makes ...

Tue, 09 Feb, 2021 09.49 UTC

I've started a new _project_. One might ask what that _project_ is. One would get a reply immediately. At the end of each endless, torturous day I sit down with my trusty log-book and pen a few items that resonate most clearly in my mind from throughout the day. One can substitute _Fairphone_ for log-book and _virtual keypad_ for pen. Further, one can substitute _agonizingly brief and routine, but far from painful, unless one counts metaphorically_ for endless, torturous. Paying attention to my surrounding...

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2022 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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