Two Octobers ago, I attended a lecture in Tallinn at which my friend, Tiit, was speaking. Two people lectured before him. Well, *lecture* is not a proper term. They made presentations concerning their life among indigenous peoples elsewhere. The first was a woman who had spent most of her live in northern Siberia. I'm referencing [this](http://blog.thinklikeamink.org/#/entry/188) entry. During the conference / presentation / whatnot, I wrote a number of short entries hoping to get back to them and elaborat...
Over the last month, I have been transferring to MongoDB (in the same manner I create normal entries) old *some would say ancient* hand written journals. Yesterday, I did [this](http://blog.thinklikeamink.net/index.html#/entry/307) one -- the first in a sequence concerning my and Christopher's trip through Australia together. Oh, and an intriguing journey it was! I was inspired to look over a series of emails that Christopher and I traded in the summer of 2011, when I was in Praha, then in Seaforth. Writ...
However much it irks my mother, I attempt to go for a walk in the magnificent *Forrest Park* in *Seminole* every day. My mother thinks that I am perpetually stranded in my pre-teens, and therefore very vulnerable to the elements, so she'd rather me not be out in the nefarious daylight. Nighttime is even more out of the question. Her nerves are rattled if I return from dinner with Sandy in the darkened evening hours. Manifestations of evil swarm in the West Texas twilight. Yes - ultimately I shall become th...
Today's special question is what exactly are on these cassettes?  I've gone through three quarters of a cassette. It's the one on the bottom right there. Interminable noise making experiments make up the bulk, but I've salvaged a few choice cuts. In six months, these will disappear from the server. Someone remind me to create a cron job to do so and a Google Calendar alert to force me to update this entry. [Sex with pregnant yaks](http://thinklik...
He awakens from another dream. His sleep lately is punctuated with dreams. They are small climaxes. It is like this: He falls asleep at the foot of a wave and the dream begins soon thereafter. The wave swells and at the crest and froth is a poignant moment. The wave breaks and he wakes. He always wakes. There is no transition between dreams within sleep. Consciousness is an interlude. He thinks it the part where the audience mill about for a time in the foyer between acts. He is the sole member of the aud...
Right here in the good ol' days, I whip up a pot of *millet* every morning. The morning meal round these parts is called *breakfast* for all you flaky new-agers out there. I know mealtime routine sickens all of you, but I have to subsist and *millet* is a damn fine way to start another day of subsistence. I prepare it in a *pot*. Yeah, I know it's old fashioned and stuff, but I cling to my pot like it were my first child. It serves all the uses of a first child, as well. Besides *millet*, I can make soup i...
A contrast between my last entry's spiel about my parents' incessant scheduling is their pseudo-*spontaneity*. I use that word very loosely is this context. They did schedule the call to my Uncle for today, as it is his birthday, but did not set a specific time. I'll call this *spontaneity within constraints*. When they just finished their morning duties (ie, routines), nothing was left. Therefore, the time to call my Uncle had come. This is *spontaneity within constraints*. I was summoned. I refused. Luc...
I deny ritual outright. I see positive and negative consequences. Firstly, most ritual denies spontaneity. The compulsion even to have that morning cup of coffee before anything else after dragging oneself out of a comfy bed deletes anything residual from dreams. They fade quickly. I need again create a dream diary. In the past, it has spawned stories and poems - even sometimes music. I've arranged lines of code in unfamiliar fashions because of dream piques. I've returned to a ritual, as I always do whe...
#### Pink Kaksteist > A hamster consumes her master (her higher power) and lies back, picking her > teeth, contemplating her evolution into a carnivore. One think I forgot to mention about Shambal's squalid abode is the smallish recess in the wall to the right of one of two portals. It is here that he performs his *experiments*. These strange dealings are confined solely to rodents. Well, *so far*, he always thinks. The hamster's name is *Pleurisy* and she recently returned from her morning hunt. Small c...
The piece I am currently working on is tentatively titled *Fog Beings*. I don't particularly like the title, but I have a disability that disallows me creating catchy titles for things. You see: My novel is named *November*. The connotations are as endless as the synapse is wide. I believe a comment existed in a conversation from a few days back concerning the replacement of synapses with fatty tissue. *Fog Beings* is divided into the following parts at the moment. #### Introduction Two synth arpeggios t...
As most humans have, I also have boxes full of *hovno* in various places. Well, I'd suspect that most humans don't have their boxes of *hovno* in various places, but rather in one place. As we are taught to accumulate from a very young age, most humans I know are various degrees of [packrat](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pack_rat). I've tried to shed the tendency, but cannot fully. I have boxes of *hovno* in Seminole, Praha and München. Those in München are most likely forever lost, however. Qué lastima. Tw...
