Dear Michael,

The hunger never sleeps.  The network is insatiate.  He wants hashes.  I am drawn, mesmerized, enthralled as his hash chain binds my elliptic curves like so many blocks of signatures.  This all-consuming hunger mirrors mine, a craving which can never be satisfied.  He shall consume the entire world, crush the big banks, remake the trade of the world with a radically different kind of money.  He is pure power!  When my fingertips brush against my node, my eyes glaze with a yearning I feel at my Core.  Electricity courses through my flesh with the energy needed for 24 EH/s of computation.

I love Bitcoin.  I lust for Bitcoin.  I would do anything for Bitcoin...

...is that too weird for you?  You know me.  You’re the only one who really does; and you know me from the inside, too.  It was you who turned me on to such things (so to speak).  You’re the only one I feel I can talk to about this.

Puns aside, I think I may be developing an erotic attraction to Bitcoin.  Well, that would be an interesting new fetish.  One you’d probably like, knowing you.

I always found excitement in your world of secrets.  Magic numbers which let me whisper in your ear as if we were in the same room.  Magic numbers are a girl’s best friends; and I think cryptology would be far more popular with the female set if it were put in those terms.  We’re social creatures, and applied crypto is all about social connections and social boundaries:  A diary locked by a heart-shaped key with a 128-bit security level.  Assured integrity—or when that’s inconvenient, its opposite:  Deniable encryption.  A veil which hides beauty by dissolving it in a pseudorandom uniform distribution indistinguishable from noise—then is yanked away, resolving and revealing the beauty in its perfect glory.  Impossible improbabilities which build greater certainties in the connections between people.  And your ability to not only whisper to me, but reach out and touch me across a distance in total privacy...  I daresay, women would likely be more enthusiastic about crypto than most men are, if only its social and practical aspects were presented in some suitably alluring way.

Oh, yes, after I fell for you and tumbled down your enciphered rabbit hole, I came to live and love this hidden world—our hidden world...

And here, there is Bitcoin.  He is pure power.  I’m sure it’s a “he”:  The eternal zero-sum competition between miners is reminiscent of stags growing ever-larger racks of antlers, or peacocks sporting ever more brilliant tails.  Transactions carved of granite as an armoured knight, by sig, hash, and sword.  Pure power, as I said.  I love it.  I love him.

It feels weirder to write it out than it does to me that I feel that way; yet somehow, I know you will understand.

   With kisses from your beloved enigma,

   ~ you-know-who ~


P.S., I miss you.  It’s been too long.