Higgy Day 8
So they didn”t pick me to go on their special science project. It”s not like I care. I”ve been ignored for years and years. Thick skin, I”m living proof of evolution. Every time I publish a new article the scientific community just laughs and laughs. It”s as if they”re eagerly waiting for me to come out with a new theory, just so they can get their kicks. “Here”s the new Prof. Higgy paper, look he”s trying to disprove gravity this time!”
I”m the gag reel for them, the bloopers at the end of the movie
When I suggested Mars was filled with nutrient rich soil, that with a little filtering could be perfectly edible, they looked at me like I was mad. Then, barely able to say the words between giggles, they ask me, “So you”re saying that Mars is made of cheese?
They actually asked me that! Can you believe it? I stormed out of the interview and needless to say (oh needless indeed!) didn”t get on the flight. A good surprise. And I love surprises.
No matter, no matter. Science is science, and inane trifles such as being accepted to a mission to Mars cannot hinder progress. I made my own ticket in the form of a cleaning crew”s uniform. Now I wait in the bowels of the ship, where the trash goes to be incinerated and dumped into space. Not to worry, I know the schedule. They aren”t going to throw me away just yet.I”m not some egg carton. Plenty of food here too. There will be more when we get this trip started.
I”m writing this on the walls of the trash dock. Plenty of space, plenty of space. Sometimes I feel my thoughts are too large for a tiny computer screen. They should be blasted out of my mind, burned onto the moon, written all over the universe in capital letters arranged with supernovas. If I had my way (oh, if I had my way). This will have to do for now.
My scientific tabulations are on the adjacent wall. I”ve set myself to finishing my project as a proper member of this space team.
(Is my voice echoing? Or my thoughts?)
They will see.
When it”s ready.
That I love surprises.