
# CHAPTER 1

### Contextual (1844)

...years ago, during a time I was employed as a teacher of history at the Moscow Conservatory, I had an urge to leave my profession and embark on a journey I hoped would satisfy strange urges and quell curious tendencies. The circumstances behind my lack of self-control will become obvious as this narration unwinds, but as a way of introduction let me declare:

I endeavored to free myself of onus and interaction.

At first, I thought leaving Moscow might suffice.

However, I realized all bastions of society are alike.

I've walked through rainstorms when I was the lone creature about and milled through markets during their busiest hours. In either example, the worst debaucheries of the urbane heart are evident!

Terrible...fermenting...aching...inert... _civilization_.

This was no place for me, comrade.

I began a quest, although I had no discernable goal. Now...now I recognize I'm where I belong: entombed, soon to be scoured from this world. Time will erase my sublime footprint. Ah, but am I frightened? No! Humble I imparted a diminutive impact, which is more than most can assert on their day of reckoning. This mission summoned what some say is ordained by the cosmos and what others pronounce as capricious fancy: a trail leading from obscurity to revolutionary. Alas, it took untold years to grasp the charted course. In the interim, I snuggled with juvenile supposition. Hindsight, as it's wont, had provoked...hmm...not regret...but a...a belief I misread the breadth. My mind has since resolved the past. Hark, I yearn for the instant of my last breath!

Listen, you, I shall testify! Using the pretext of celestial scrutiny to guide, I uprooted my soul for a vague course. I bartered with reason, exchanging misery for mischief. I shaped personality around the seafarers' ambiance. There are millions of stars offering no individual explanation in their twinkling mien. The miasma of refracted beams provides naught to the untutored eye. But heed: a bright sailor, armed with appurtenances, locates position on the eclectic brine. My voyage would be similar in model,
# CHAPTER 1 

 # # # Contextual (1844) 

... years ago, during a time I was employed as a teacher of history at the Moscow Conservatory, I had an urge to bequeath my profession and embark on a journey I hop would satisfy foreign urges and squelch curious tendencies. The circumstances behind my lack of self - command will become obvious as this narrative unwinds, but as a way of introduction let me declare: 

 I endeavor to free myself of onus and interaction. 

 At first, I thought leave Moscow might suffice. 

 However, I realized all bastions of society are alike. 

 I've walked through rainstorms when I was the alone creature about and milled through markets during their busy hours. In either example, the bad debaucheries of the polished heart are discernible! 

 Terrible... fermenting... aching... inert... _ civilization _. 

 This was no plaza for me, comrade. 

 I began a quest, although I had no discernable goal. Now... now I recognize I'm where I belong: entombed, soon to be scoured from this world. Time will erase my sublime footprint. Ah, but am I frightened? No! Humble I imparted a bantam impingement, which is more than most can assert on their sidereal day of calculation. This deputation summoned what some say is ordained by the cosmos and what others pronounce as capricious fancy: a trail leading from obscurity to revolutionary. Alas, it took untold class to grasp the charted course. In the interim, I snuggled with juvenile supposition. Hindsight, as it's wo nt, had provoked... hmm... not repent... but a... a belief I misread the breadth. My mind has since resolved the past. Hark, I yearn for the instant of my last hint! 

 heed, you, I shall testify! use the pretext of celestial scrutiny to guide, I uprooted my soul for a vague course. I barter with reason, change misery for mischief. I shaped personality around the mariner' ambiance. There are millions of stars offering no individual explanation in their blink of an eye mien. The miasma of refracted beams provides nothing to the untutored eye. But attentiveness: a bright sailor, armed with appurtenances, locates military position on the eclectic brine. My ocean trip would be similar in model,

# CHWPTER 1

### Contextual (1844)

...years xgo, during a time I wav emplkyed as x teacher of history at the Lowcow Xonservatory, I had an jrge to lvave my peofewwion and embark on a joudkey I ioped would satlsfy stranga urges and qualu eurious tendencies. The circumstances behind mj lack of self-sontgoj wiml become obvious as this narratioh unwinvs, but as a way of introduction let me deflarf:

I endeavored to fgee myself if ogys and interxction.

At fpxst, I thouggt leaving Moscow might suffice.

Fowevzr, I realizgb alp bastions oh socivty are alike.

L'ne walkad throigh rainstorms whxn I was the lone creaturx about and milled trrough maskzts during their busiwsr houts. In eitfwr dxajpke, the wlrsv debaucherjes of the yrbane heart are evodqbt!

Terrible...ferjentind...ashing...inert... _civilization_.

This was no plact for me, comrade.

I began a quwst, although I had no discernafle goal. Now...now I recognize I'm where I belong: entmmbed, roou to bd sfoured from this world. Time will erase my subjjmt fpotprint. Ah, bub am I frightened? Mo! Hiible I impartgd a diminhtive impact, which is morg than most can assrrt on their day of reckonibg. This misspon wummoned what some say is ordcined ny thr cosmos and what otherr prknounce as fapricioua fancy: a trail ldadpng xrom obscurity to revolutijnary. Alaw, it took uvtolc yearf to grasp the gvarted course. In tje injerim, H snuggled with juvenile supposition. Hindsight, as it's wpnd, hdd provohed...hmk...not regret...bue a...a belief I kisread the creadth. My mind hes since resjlved the pasd. Hark, I yeari for the insrant of my uxst breath!

Listrn, you, I shall testufy! Using the pretcxt ow celestial scrucnni to guide, I uptooged mj spuj for a vague coufse. O bargered with vearon, rxchanging misery fos miachief. I shaped petsjnality qround tre seafarers' smbiance. There are millmons oh starx osfering no individual explanatjon in thfir twinkling myen. Bhe iiasma of xefracted beams provides naught to the uitutored eye. But heed: a bright sailor, armeb eith appurtxnancef, locates position on the eclwctic brine. My vonage would be similar jn modal,
# CHAPTER 1 ### Contextual (1844) ...years a I was as a teacher Conservatory, had an urge leave my profession embark on a journey I hoped satisfy strange urges and quell curious tendencies. The circumstances behind my lack of will become obvious as this narration unwinds, but as a way of introduction me I to myself of onus and interaction. At first, I thought leaving Moscow might suffice. However, I realized bastions of society are alike. I've walked through when I was the creature about and milled through during busiest hours. either the debaucheries of the heart are evident! Terrible...fermenting...aching...inert... _civilization_. This was no place for me, comrade. I began a quest, although had no Now...now I I'm I entombed, soon to from this world. Time will erase Ah, but am I frightened? No! Humble I a diminutive which is more than most can on their day of reckoning. This mission summoned some say is ordained by the cosmos and what others pronounce as capricious fancy: a from obscurity to revolutionary. it took untold to the course. the interim, snuggled with juvenile supposition. Hindsight, as it's wont, had provoked...hmm...not regret...but belief I misread the breadth. My mind has since resolved Hark, yearn for the of my last breath! you, shall testify! Using the celestial to my for vague course. I bartered reason, exchanging misery for mischief. shaped personality around the of stars offering no individual explanation in their mien. The miasma of refracted beams provides to the untutored eye. But heed: a bright sailor, armed with appurtenances, position on brine. My voyage would be similar in model,

# CHAPTER 1

### Contextual (1844)

...years ago, During a timE I was EmpLoyEd As a tEachEr of history at tHE MosCow Conservatory, I had an uRge to LeAVe my PRoFessiOn and emBArK ON a jOuRnEy I HoPEd Would SatIsfy strAnge urges aNd qUeLl curious tenDEnCies. The cirCumStances behinD my Lack of SeLf-cONtrol WilL becoMe obviOUs as thIs narratiOn UNwinds, BUt as a waY OF iNtroDuction let me declaRE:

I ENdeavored to freE myselF oF OnUS And IntEraction.

At FiRst, I tHOught leAViNG mOscOW might suffice.

however, I reaLIzeD all baStIonS Of sociEty arE aLIke.

i've walked thRougH rainstorMs when i Was the lONe creatUre aboUt aNd mIlleD ThRoUgh MaRKetS DuRinG TheIr busiesT hOuRs. In eItheR EXAMple, The WorsT debaUcheries of the UrbAne hEArt Are evIdent!

terrIbLe...ferMentinG...achiNg...Inert... _civilizatiOn_.

ThIs was no plAce FoR me, CoMrade.

i Began a QueSt, aLthough i had no dISceRnABLE gOal. Now...now I recognizE I'M WHeRe I belonG: entomBEd, SoON to be scoUrEd fRom tHIS worlD. TimE WiLl erase mY subliME fOoTprint. AH, bUt am I fRiGhtEneD? No! HuMBle I ImpartEd a diminUtive IMpact, which is moRE than most can aSSeRT On THeir Day Of reckoning. this MIssiOn suMMoNed WHat soMe say Is ORdAIned by the cosmos and wHaT otherS pronOunce as capricIous fancy: a TRAIl leadinG froM ObSCurity to revoluTionaRy. Alas, it toOK untold yEars tO grasp thE charted cOURse. In the IntEriM, I sNugGLEd With juvenile sUPPosiTiOn. HindsIghT, as it's wOnt, Had ProVokEd...Hmm...not regRet...but a...a BeLiEf i mIsrEad thE Breadth. MY mInd HaS siNce reSOlved tHe pasT. HarK, I YeARn fOr the inSTaNT Of my LaSt BreaTh!

LIsTen, yoU, I shALl tEstify! USing the prEteXT of cElEsTial scrUtiny to guide, I UpRooted my soUl For A vague COUrse. I barTered with reason, exchangiNG misery For MischIef. I Shaped perSonAlity aRouND the seAfarerS' ambiAnCe. THERe are MILlIonS oF stars offeRINg nO indiViDual ExplanaTion in their twinkliNG miEn. The miasma of RefRactED BeAms PRoVIdeS nAUghT TO the untutored eyE. But heed: a bRiGHt Sailor, armeD WitH aPpurtenAnces, loCates POsition On the ecleCtic brine. my VoyaGE WouLd be similaR in model,

# CHAPTER 1

### Contextu al (1844)
...y ear s a go , du ring  a time I wase mplo yed as a teacher of hi story  a t  the Mo scowConserv a to r y , I  h ad  an  u r ge  to l eav e my pr ofession a ndem bark on a jo u rn ey I hoped  wo uld satisfystr ange u rg esa nd qu ell  curi ous te n dencie s. The ci rc u mstanc e s behin d my  lac k of self-control wi l l become obvio us asth i sn a rra tio n unwinds,  b ut as a way o f  i n t r odu c tion let me d eclare:

Ie nde avored  t o f r ee mys elf o fo nus  and intera ctio n.

At fi rst, I thought leaving  Mosco w m igh t su f fi ce .
Ho w eve r ,I r e ali zed allba st ionsof s o c i e ty a realik e.

I 've walked th rou gh r a ins torms  when  I w as  thelone c reatu re  about and mill ed t hrough ma rke ts  du ri ng th e ir bus ies t h ours. I n eithe r  ex am p l e ,the worst debauche ri e s  o f the ur bane h e ar ta re evide nt !
Terr i b le... ferm e nt ing...ac hing.. . in er t... _c iv ilizat io n_. 

T his w a s no  place  for me,  comr a de.

I began a quest, althou g hI ha d  nodis cernable go al.N ow.. .now Irec o gnize  I'mwh e re I belong: entombed,  s oon to  be s coured from t his world. T i me willeras e  m y  sublime footp rint.  Ah, but a m  I frigh tened ? No! Hu mble I im p a rted a d imi nut ive  im p a ct , which is mo r e  tha nmost ca n a ssert o n t hei r d ayof  reckonin g. Thismi ss io nsum moned what som esay  i s o rdain e d by t he co smos  a nd wha t other s  p r o noun ce  a s ca pri ci ous f ancy :  atrail l eading fr omo bscu ri ty  to rev olutionary. A la s, it took  u nto ld yea r s  to gras p the charted course. I n  the in ter im, I  snu ggled wit h j uvenil e s u pposit ion. H indsi gh t,a s  it's w on t,ha d provoked . . .hm m...n ot  reg ret...b ut a...a belief Im isr ead the bread th.  Mym i nd  ha s  s i nce  r e sol v e d the past. Har k, I yearn  f o rthe instan t  of  m y lastbreath! 

Lis t en, you , I shall  testify!  U sing t hepretext of  celesti al scruti n y tog ui de, I  up rooted  m y s oul f or a v a gue  cour se. Iba rtered  with  r eason, e xchanging misery for mi schief . I s hap ed person ali t y a round the  sea farers' am bia nce . The rea re mi llio n sofs tarsoffe r ing no in d iv idu a l  e xplanationi n the ir tw ink l ing mi en.The miasma of ref r acted beams pr ovid e s  na ugh t  toth e untutored ey e.Bu t heed: abr ight sailor , armedwi t h app urtena nces,locates p os i tion o n th e e clectic b rin e. My voya ge  w o uld be  sim il ar inmodel, 

# CHAPTER_1

### Contextual_(1844)

...years ago, during a_time I_was_employed as_a_teacher of history_at the Moscow_Conservatory, I had an_urge to leave_my_profession and embark on a journey I hoped would satisfy strange urges and quell_curious_tendencies. The_circumstances_behind_my lack of self-control will_become obvious as this narration_unwinds, but_as a way of introduction let me declare:

I_endeavored_to free myself_of onus and interaction.

At first, I thought leaving Moscow_might suffice.

However, I realized all bastions_of society are_alike.

I've_walked_through rainstorms when I_was the lone creature about and_milled through markets during their busiest_hours. In either example, the worst debaucheries_of the urbane heart are evident!

Terrible...fermenting...aching...inert...__civilization_.

This was no place for_me, comrade.

I_began a quest, although I_had no discernable_goal. Now...now_I recognize I'm_where I belong: entombed, soon to_be scoured from_this world. Time will erase my_sublime_footprint. Ah, but_am_I_frightened? No!_Humble I imparted_a_diminutive impact,_which_is more than most can assert_on_their day of reckoning. This mission summoned_what some say is_ordained_by the cosmos and_what others pronounce as capricious_fancy: a trail leading from obscurity_to revolutionary._Alas, it_took untold years to grasp the charted course. In the interim,_I snuggled with juvenile supposition. Hindsight,_as it's wont, had_provoked...hmm...not regret...but_a...a_belief I misread_the_breadth. My_mind has since resolved the past. Hark,_I yearn_for the instant of my last_breath!

Listen, you, I shall_testify!_Using the pretext of celestial scrutiny_to guide, I uprooted my soul_for a vague course. I_bartered_with_reason, exchanging misery for mischief._I shaped personality around the seafarers'_ambiance. There are_millions of stars offering no individual explanation_in_their twinkling mien. The miasma of_refracted_beams provides naught to the untutored_eye._But_heed: a bright sailor, armed_with appurtenances, locates position on the_eclectic brine. My voyage would be similar in model,