People find me peculiar. They think it's odd that I spend most of my waking hours wearing eight or nine Internet-connected computers sewn into my clothing and that I wear opaque wrap-around glasses day and night, inside and outdoors. They find it odd that to sustain wireless communications during my travels, I will climb to the hotel roof to rig my room with an antenna and Internet connection. They wonder why I sometimes seem detached and lost, but at other times I exhibit vast knowledge of their specialty. A physicist once said he felt that I had the intelligence of a dozen experts in his discipline; a few minutes later, someone else said they thought I was mentally handicapped.

Despite the peculiar glances I draw, I wouldn't live any other way. I have melded technology with my person and achieved a higher state of awareness than would otherwise be possible. I see the world as images imprinted onto my retina by rays of light controlled by several computers, which in turn are controlled by cameras concealed inside my glasses.