The Side Effects of Endorphins

There seems to be a lot of messages, caught up in the air waves going from the past to the present to the future and I’m getting mixed messages here. I feel like I sent a message to my past self yesterday. But this time machine has some tricky gadgets and hooks that I just have to figure out how to use.

Which naturally I do not so I sit down and write a letter using a Pentil number eight pencil and I pop on a forever stamp and give it to my mailman. His name is Sam. Sam looked at the address on the envelope and he can’t figure out a ZIP Code from the past. I wrote the ZIP Code as the square root of 19601. Thinking that’s how I mail something into the past.

Well, apparently, Sam has a side business working on Time Machines. He sees the behemoth Time Machine in my backyard and gets out a screwdriver, some duct tape and a bag of Epsom salt. Don’t ask me.

Miraculously it works. The Time Machine is now up and running.. He walks off with my envelope anyway.

There sits my 10th grade self in a deep philosophical conversation with a girl who sits next to him. They do this every day and he looks absorbed and happy. My 10th grade self picks up a note that’s sitting on the floor. It’s in a shape of a triangle like the little hand football games we played in our youth. He opens up the note and the note reads.

“Ask Her Out”

Which he does.

She says “she will think about it. “

This ripple in the course of life doesn’t go unnoticed. This little question changes all of history that comes after it in a tiny way.