Dear Universe,

Are we cosmically connected? What's the blue jay way, anyway? What's with animal mating procedures? Why are you expanding? How do you cure plant diseases? Who was the first person to have aids? Did he pass it on? Was it a girl? Who thought of cross breeding? Could I cross a kiwi and a mango? What would I call it-kiango? Mangiwi?

Is asking stupid questions stupid? My creative non fiction professor seems to be so interested in everything, like the ceiling patterns of dots on the dumb ceiling in class, or the periodic table of elements, and grackles (annoying genus of blackbirds), and roadkill science, and like everything under the sun. And he just wonders and wonders and wonders.

I mean, how do you dispel so much energy on everything like that? Do you fake it? Is that what people who aren't really good at anything in particular do? Be amazed? Is everything really that interesting? Am I bored, or boring- jaded?

I remember a time when I knew people who did cool things and were nonplussed and i thought, gee, I wouldn't shut up about it if that were me. And I didn't. When did I stop talking so much, and when did I stop smelling the roses?

Universe, will you slap me back to a happier time? Like when recess was awesome, and like the squishy-ness of the tethered ball was awesome, and when it was weird how soft my hands got after monkeying on the bars, and even doing homework was sort of fun because I wanted to get everything right and impress my teacher. And like when I used to get check minuses because I was a talkative annoyance.

I guess its happy now too, I just need to remember to like, let life wash over me again. Connect with you, Universe. Sometimes, anytime.

Your old friend,
Gagz

(does anything ever make any sense?)