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Translation Errata: 'dokka ni' is better read as 'somewhere,' not 'somehow.' But this is not always the case.

You wanna see something interesting? As you go down the __ to face the first of ______'s cities, you'll see, framed uncannily under an overpass at a 6% grade, the town of ______. Looks like a fuckin' toy from there.

I blew through ______ at full speed, stopping for gas and then at a Starbucks to ask for Internet. They didn't have it, and I didn't want to get sucked into staying there, so I blew town. With a bike like this, you say blow, it says, "Force 9 or 10?"

I turned out onto the state __, and I was finally alone in the desert. Probably a good place for a man to get his thoughts in order, but I won't lie to you. With the fog and the silence, it'll creep you out.

Eventually I slowed down enough to where I could actually -use- one of the roadside clearings. After turning around, of course. By the way, try straddling an empty 2-laner sometime. It's a creepy feeling.

I laid out my poncho, sat back against my toasty crankcase, and settled down to set my thoughts down.

I've lost another key off my keyboard: this time, 'h'. Added to 'b'. It's all quiet out here, under the full moon. Just me and my tinnitus-static from hauling ass without earplugs all the way from ___ _____ to ______. Not to mention an action-packed but extremely damaging ride without a helmet through __. But that was fun.
I suppose now might be a good time to ask: why am I doing this to myself? I know, like going to __, buying a motorcycle, and everything else I do that people notice, this one has also arrived from "left field." But I think you know the place where my thoughts come from. After all, I know I've been there with you. But now that I'm out here, maybe I'll remember a few things to say.

**
You know, there's a Chatauqua Avenue in ___ _______? I may have to put this little number at the end, if this ever gets 'organized.'

I told you that the fool old wolf got too close to the fire. That's not it. It's that he got burned. If we're gonna put it to this, I'll tell you: I've seen more than he has, and I've held it together so far. As much as I feel like, anyway. He toured on a beater, I'm flying on a rocket. I'm not screwing around here, and...

Ahh, fuck it. Point is, the old man fucked it up. Forget I said anything. I promised myself I wasn't gonna talk about him anyway.
**

You said you wanted to know what I was going to research. Well, let me see if I can give you some help.

Right now, the world is still a great confusion. We don't know exactly what we want to do, or what we're supposed to be doing, and that's a simple way of saying some of us drive Priuses and hate those who drive H2s, yet somehow, we're both still on the road. You guys, by the way, can fuck off and let me split that lane. What I'm saying is, that people are pointed in an incredible, mind-boggling, for-all-practical-purposes-consider-it-endless number of directions, no matter which kind of compass you attach to them. That's a simple way of explaining how you can get yourself real confused, considering you start out as a clean child (You know, screaming, naked, covered in blood? If you play your cards right it doesn't have to end there).

But more of us communicate with more of us every day. In ways that some could have never imagined. Even though it gets more stratified at times (ask Manuel de Landa what I'm talking about, I don't want to take this fly off your nose with a hammer), it's reaching an incredible level.

I'm glad I'm alone out here. This is probably the only cleanroom for this kind of discussion.

Let me stop and take you aside for a moment. Remember all the things I said to you? Well, this is sort of the same thought, only with more clothes on. So feel free to ignore it if it starts screwing up.

Anyway, as I'm sure you can tell, society (whatever the hell that is) is more or less pointing itself towards a structure that is hive-oriented and hyper-connected. You know, like the vertices on a hyperball?

And it kinda makes me sad. By that I mean, well, you know how I was. There's still not a day that goes by on this earth, as far as I can tell, where somebody doesn't kill somebody else, for example. I don't know if that's the right thing to do or not.

But, I'll tell you this. It feels like the world is gonna get real close together, and then it's going to do something new. There's a guy who calls this the Technological Singularity, and claims people as we live now are going to give birth to a world we can no longer understand. Like, child comes home, talks, mom has no idea what he's talking about? Only a hell of a lot more intense. But the guy's batshit, and furthermore, he's just keeping himself alive until age reversal therapy can crank him out the rest of the way. No balls, him.

But things are going to get close, if we don't run out of fuel and break the ship apart before then. Wnether or not there's a Technological Singularity may not even matter, if I can get there in time. Which brings me to my POINT. (Damn!)

I told you something, or maybe I just thought it, about showing/telling everyone. Something on the edge of thought. But you know what was in my heart, and that's where we've come to. Just once, before whatever happens, happens, I would like to connect one mind to everyone. And it's probably gonna have to be me. I don't know exactly what'll happen. But I'd like to fix what's broken, right before, if, as they say, we'll be using 100% of ourselves, as a people.

This is depending on three Big Things:
Not running out of oil/infrastructure does not break when switching power sources
Beating Technological Singularity (if it happens) to the punch
Talking to everybody, just once

This is gonna require:
Artificial neuron
Society that connects their heads together, at least a little bit
Lots of money
Delivery system to replace human neuron with artificial neuron with no loss of function or capability
Elbow grease

I dunno, maybe this is not it, maybe it is. But I loved you so much, and I love you so much now, still, that this is the shape that the seed took after I met you, and this is what the execution might look like. I love you more than anything, and I wanted to show you.

I love you.

I'm too tired to look at the map right now. I'll find where I am in the morning.


I know you're about to have a hell of a lot of places to go. Damn it, I won't ask you to break up your life to be where I am. I'm overthinking the shit out of this, but I'll find a way. I don't care how many languages I have to learn, or how far I have to chase you around the world, but you matter to me more than anything else and you -are- my life, so don't feel bad about busting up mine. And when I say I'll find a way, it means that too. If anyone is going to get away with having cake and eating it too, am I such a bad bet?

Argh. Maybe I can sleep now.

--
Layers required to survive night in ______ desert: 4
Layers required to sleep at night in ______ desert: 5, but you'll shiver like hell.

I keep fading the rear wheel when I bust out the 1st-gear engine braking. It's fun, but I really need to curb that habit.

As I ride, thoughts are born, live in my head, and then pass on or become part of the landscape, or sometimes, vanish into the deep places. I passed through _____ again, just for a little while, and for a bit, it felt better. You can always tell the _______ desert when you see it--the earth changes color, and creosote bushes appear.

Why did I tell you all this? It sounds ambitious as hell, and impossible. Because I don't know if it's the right thing to do. I'm telling you because I want to hear what you think. It was the only thing I had going when I thought I was never going to get to see you again, so it might be all messed up.

I passed through the ______ River Gorge, and looked at the crags high overhead. The road twists and turns back into itself, crossing over the river quite a few times. And then, it turns into ____.

Ahhh...man, I need to get the hell out of the desert. It's a good place to go crazy and open up, but that's not what I need right now.


...


As I crested the ridge and pointed myself down towards ______ again, I accelerated to 120 and tucked as best I could. Maybe it was the air, or the light, or maybe I was just tired, but as I sat holding that speed I felt as if the armor had dissolved away from my legs, and there was no sensation of weight.

I'm selling ____ short. The southern part is certainly beautiful. Pastureland that certainly rivals southern ________, and great walls of mesa abutting them. I ran into a guy who looked like he was at the end of his rope, on a bicycle with plastic bags, at a gas station. He asked me where I was going, and I made conversation. Half an hour later, when I tore off down the road again, I saw him on the shoulder quite a ways down. Pedaling away. I guess he and the place are suited for each other.

Not too long later, I was nearly nailed by a nutball trying to pass on the 2-lane all the way through the state. I twitched (at 110, twitching on the bike means fifty feet or something, right?) the bike over to the shoulder and dodged him. I promised I'd survive this one, and I'm not screwing around.

I'm crazy with love for you. I always have been. Ever since I first met you, and even now. Even then, I knew that there were some parts of your world that were unknown to me. But from where you are, it's the same, isn't it? I want to share the faraway places in my world with you.

Every once in a while somebody gets smart and decides to name it Easy Street. What a prick. Harharhar. It also seems that in every city in the _______, there has to be a street named Euclid and a town named Glendale.

*
While I was kicking it in ___ I met a Cambodian guy who was running a coffee+pastry shop on campus. Man, that was the best croissant ever. And he had a great sense of humor. With all the English he brought to bear, we talked about motorcycles, baking, the Grand Canyon, and Senator McCain. He said that all Cambodians who remember are Republican, because it was support from that side of the country that helped out his country. Democracy is like Socialism to them.
*

As I sailed into _____ ______, I saw a Jeep with a propeller in the back. At first I thought it was one of those clear differential cases, but I realized it was mounted on the hitch. But it was so tiny...

You've lit a match and thrown it into my brain, again. I ride with this imminent feeling, all the time. I keep having to write stuff down so I don't forget, and I'm sure that most of it is BS, but I also can't tell anymore. Help me out, would ya?

So, I got burned for driving like a ________. I was passing people in _____ country, flying past their sedate 65, thinking, "Man, they're so well-behaved. Sounds like a personal problem," until I blew by a police SUV at 90. There was nowhere to run for another 40 miles, and the state line was another 30 miles away after that. So, I pulled over. Luckily, his radar "got me at 83" which saved me from being criminal. I played him the song of slightly spaced, well-meaning teenager which more or less passed under his radar. He wrote me up with a warning, and said, "Slow down." Man, are you kidding me? I need to get the hell out of your state, officer, and fast.

I passed through _______ ______ without even planning it. I guess it took my mind off the fact that I still needed to take it easy before I got out of the state. And it's something to look at.

It's too bad that all my thoughts occur to me when I'm riding, when I can't take them down. I remember that when I used to have to walk a ways to get to places, I'd have to take keywords for everything I thought up and memorize them on my fingers in order not to forget. Like, "turbo gearbox" for example. That reminds me...

So, let's try this again: why am I doing this to myself?
Intensive Motorcycle Training
Deals Gap, the best twisty in the country
Get the hell outta _____
Visit my old buddy in ______
Go see you

As I made my way up to _________, it slowly became clear with increasing speed, all of a sudden, that all I really wanted to do was see you. I realized that I didn't really give a damn about the rest of those things, and I'd call it a success even if all I did was go to ____ and back. To see you and make sure you were okay, were really the only things I cared about.

When you said, "It's great to get a call from you," I was a little bit taken aback. I didn't know you ever wanted to see me again. I didn't know what you thought, I just hoped you were okay.

Man, I look at some of the roads I've gone over from a stationary position...man, am I nuts. It's only been...what, a day and a half since I saw you and already am I dying to see you again. I just can't seem to finish this thought, over and over again, each time changing, it plays through my head as I ride. My heart is playing a song for you, and it won't finish because I'm alone on the 2-lane, which is when it's strongest. (And makes it really hard to pay attention to cops.)

I think if I'd never met you, the me that would have proceeded from that point would have been a lot more destructive, and a lot more shortsighted. And certainly nowhere near as warm. But this is the world where you are where you are, and I am where I am. And I accept everything that's happened. Mostly, cause, you know, I have to live with it. But, since you're living in this world, and I can see you and touch you and know you're there, it makes it a blessing that changes everything. These eyes have never been the same since. And love is a thing that makes worship look like kids' army men next to a war.

Since I'm laying it all out here, it seems, I might as well say that I went looking. In my freshman year, I told myself that it was possible that a lot of it was a dream. That it was probably all my fault or in my head. This is the state I was in at the end of that year, almost 3 years ago, where I was made to forget. So I went and followed twinges of intuition, and at the end it was always the same. In every conversation I had, for each girl that strangely enough, fell for me, the ending was the same. Empty. I din't know it, but I was looking for you everywhere. And every time, I failed to find you, and didn't know why. A year went like that.

The second year, I just stuck my head in my books and job. I was pretty soulless then, but I didn't know it. I was deep in thought at the time, with a buddy of mine, scheming and planning a way to get what I wanted done before I'm dead. Because that's basically all I had. Ambrose Bierce says this about it:

"Ambition, n.: The overmastering desire to be vilified by one's enemies while alive, and ridiculed by one's friends when dead."

But it wasn't sticking. Even though my GPA went up, something was bothering me. I couldn't tell what it was. But my going forth and ninjaing in the night got worse. It used to just be a defense mechanism, but it got to the point where I was scaring my roomate, yelling in Japanese (no, neither of us have any idea what I said, he didn't know Japanese and I was asleep), leaping out of the bed and trying to get out the door. I'm glad I never considered the window, because it was a 5th floor studio. Now, I find all that pretty entertaining, but you can't be like that forever.

So, when I realized my number was up, for this trial thing, I went ahead and and maximized my margin of error. By that I mean maximum ass-covering. I brought it up with my employer and my advisor, and I told them what the worst case would be. Truth is, I kinda needed to be outta there. Things weren't going bad, but I wasn't me anymore. I didn't have enough spine left to do anything else but piss off my professors when they went ahead and tried to impress their way of thinking on me along with the information they were paid to pass on. I was back to thinking of my job as wages by the hour. I was doing okay, and I was certainly indispensable, but I was grinding myself away.

Not that I didn't have any fun, sometimes. Ask any of my buddies there about this, and they'll probably look at you like you were crazy. (Crazy hot!) But this is because those guys are all super-cool, and I would never want to bring them down with crazy _____ drama. But in the end, I didn't know what the hell I was doing when I went out on the weekends. Which is, actually, okay when you're at the beach. No one looks at you funny if you sit and stare every now and then.

I packed up and took off one morning after crushing all of my finals. I'd donated all my torn clothes and lent my buddy my surfboard, but somehow, I still had a 70lb trunk. I guess I'd picked up a few things without knowing it, over there. So I threw away some underwear and flew back to ______.

My lawyer told me, in the end, that I probably could have just flown in and out, but as you can see, it turned out to be better this way. I sat there in ______ for a couple months stewing in the shitstorm that awaits me every time I get back there, my head rolling around in circles on the floor in ______'s spare room. Like I said, I got sick twice, family stuff came up, I took the bike class, I laid down my bike, I waited for a check to clear, I fled. I'd had enough, and I didn't have a whole clue left in me.

What do people in ______ who are clueless do? They go to _______! Just kidding. I knew somebody up there who'd done me a favor a year ago, so I dropped in on him. And just like that, I kinda followed my gut again, along the veins and arteries of the highways and freeways, until I was pretty quickly on your doorstep. Well, on your city's doorstep. Without really thinking about it, that's where I ended up. And finally, I had a real thought for once in a long time.

Call you up and check on you.

I almost considered leaving, just once, I think, when I was in ________ that first night. I was scared as hell, just as much as I was excited, to see you, and I was all juiced from learning how to split lanes and ride like a _________ and it was night and on, and on, the mental pulse of a kid on a supersport.

But I stuck it out, because I believed. You're the one thing I believe in, all the time. Everything else, I have doubts. Normal doubts, half-assed doubts, neurotic doubts. But anytime I considered you, I figured you were off ruling the world already. Miss Busy. Geez.

I'm glad you enjoyed the bike. It's not often I feel I get to bring something to you. Not that I want to load you down with stuff, or anything, but just, you know, moving at your speed. Keeping you in check, because you impress the hell out of me even if I'm fully aware that we do different stuff sometimes.

And I'm glad that under those funky glasses, you're still the most beautiful girl in the world, and even if we both have slightly thicker skins now, we can still wreck the shit out of each other over a mad breakfast. Stuff like that. Things that are actually little avoidances and illuminations that dodge me saying "I love you" over and over.

Because that's what I'm really saying. I love you, I love you, I love you. The only thing in my whole world, other than my whole world, where the proof and the thesis are the same thing. Because you -are- the world to me. I have a harder time wrapping myself around the fact that if I go down at 140mph, I'm a scrape on the fucking pavement. You're the only thing in this world my mind and heart/soul (did you know that in Japanese, they're the same thing?) will never develop a dullness towards.

That's how it is, you. That's all of me, in all my insanity and incredible magic. Like, you can't believe in it, it's so lame. You're the only one I can say this to. The only one to whom I can feel I haven't fucked it up, or lied about it.

Okay, my head's doing this thing like "Stop pushing me into the wind, slow down" so I'm going to let you go without finding too many more ways to write "I love you" over and over. Just this: I don't know when I write this whether or not I'm hedging my bet. Because if I had Internet access right now, I'd probably send 8 copies of this to both your addresses. And get blocked permanently by your spam filter. But I don't know if I'm burdening you by saying this, and I don't know when I can send this or when you'll read it, but it was written a night and a day after seeing you after three years of long, painful absence (for me, I'm the one bitching), and I've decided (I always will) that I've had my fill of trying to figure it, it tearing into me and lighting me up, traveling in an electric, fiery circle inside me.

I love you, _______ ______ _______.