Math=Danielle Rein
the girlfriend i left behind at summer camp when I was 10,
pledging the relationship would continue during our separation
I sent a few postcards to her
got a few back
and we forgot about each other.

But math, (unlike Danielle Rein, Where is she? Ford knows) has been sending me love letters recently, and I'm tempted to respond.

I am inspired by The Vector.
The Vector has an origin.
The Vector has a direction.
What The Vector does not have, though, is a point of destination.

immersion attempts in every moment and moment and moment fail
because i am with eyes inextricably fixed on some point of destination always.
this is a curse. i am almost never where i am.
how often do i find myself making love to a book, so enraptured by the reading that i can't bear to put it down, and yet incapable of flipping to the end to see how many pages i have left.
what is going on? i am enjoying what i am reading as i am reading it, probably more than most other alternative experiences i could be having. Yet I can't stop myself from anticipating the end.

If there is a fear behind this, it probably rests on my anticipation of whether a journey without a destination is even a journey.
I seek the power of The Vector,
to extend with direction from some starting point,

to reject the end point.