Tuesday night

The dives of the parking lot smell so sweet. Flash flood street lights
and the bugs whimper underneath while diving madly upwards with wax
wings. Icarus rising, daedalus falling. Where shall daedalus go? The
sandbox has been robbed of its pleasures so north I shall go. Have
already told the sick boy to expect me sunday evening. Ribald debachury
is to be acknowledged but we will likely avoid the bar scene in favor of
pizza and hot dogs, or at least that is my initial desire. I shant stay
more than a day or two before heading to lawrence. Don't know my route.
I need to buy an atlas. Going to stay off the superslab.

Am wondering about accomodations. Have already decided that I will not
be camping. Of course that is always a viable option and I would rather
do that, but my poor parents already undergo severe palpalations and I
wish to give them rest at nights. Have set some rules for myself. They
are

Stop every 150 miles for at least twenty minutes and at the most, forty.
This gives the bike and I a chance to rest up and not over exert
ourselves.

Start time is only after a minimum of six hours of sleep, and stop time
is 10pm. This will allow me sufficiant sleep and will also allow me to
avoid excess night rides. Sure it'll take longer, but in the end my
dangers are minimized.

At 8pm, start searching for a motel. Because of my routes, I might be
required to superslab it after 7, but everyone will rest easier,
including myself.

I am also thinking of adding provisions for riding in lightning storms,
which already terrifies me. Come on. I'm riding a hunk of metal without
a ground. Have already almost been struck. Do not wish to repeat the
experience.

In the mean time, we veg in our armoured riding pants. Are slightly
uncomfortable, but this is easily remedied with proper undergarments.
Better a bit of discomfort than a lot of road rash. The thesis is done.
All that remains is two finals and a kant paper. We shall overcome.

Tomorrow, the obert arrives. Have not seen him in years. I am very
excited. We are childhood friends. Grew up together during a rough part
in our lives. Puberty should only be experienced once. Puberty pals are
close, indeed. He is one of only three friends from childhood with whom
I converse. Says something.

Am a bit despondant about leaving btown. As much as I hated it, it was
home for two years and carries with it a bit of charm. I know it well
and it knows me, I think. Once told a friend that this land was a bit
like the island of the lotus eaters. Its so complacent and amiable that
it suckers the unsuspecting into a sort of ceaseless lull. Surely a life
here would be happy, if a bit void. Still, I wonder if a small town west
of phoenix is any better. The west valley explodes and it won't remain
small for long.

Mom told me that when she moved to wheeling, it was still farmland. The
world grew around her. I remember vast fields, too. They are houses now.
Will the same happen to surprise? Development follows my family and I
miss the dandelion plains.

To my left is the big dipper and the north star. Second star to the
right and onward till morning.

~ I write with your life and my own ~