What, You Too?

I'm tired of strangers.
On campus, I get so frustrated, with all the commotion and bustle and busy. I want to stop people. So I can know them.
I want to know who that girl on her phone is talking to, why she chose yellow gold for her wedding ring, and how many siblings she has. I want to ask the boy with the wonderful shoes where his red hair comes from and how he feels about politics. Who's that little child running around the Wilk? What was the theme of his last birthday party, and can I please read Hungry Hungry Caterpillar aloud to him? I double take at the man in the suit, hurriedly going-I want to know where, and why, and if I'll ever see him again; maybe he's a professor late for lunch, or a frazzled visitor trying to find the JFSB.
I'm tired of seeing face after face that I just have to pass. I want to be able to yelp, "Oh my gosh, HI!" to every person I see-and then we can hug and walk and talk and find out the latest about each other's lives.
Hey, hipster: Is that mustache for Mustache March, or are you making a habit out of that?
hey, girl: you smell delicious-where did you get that perfume? Hey world: I want to know you. I'm no longer satisfied with simply smiling politely or looking up, left, or right to pretend I didn't see you there.
Hey you: I want to know you.
We both have eyes-we know the other is there. Look into mine. Smile and shout out something, anything-"HEY! What's your favorite book?" And I'll yell back, "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by Betty Smith-what's yours?"

We're all humans in this experience together. I want to find what we all have in common. I know you woke up this morning. Tell me what time-how long you showered, what you ate for breakfast. Let's dive right into the color of our toothbrushes and our favorite family vacations, and we'll say, "What? You too?" And hey, how can we not smile, you?
And I don't want to know these things just to make conversation, or be able to unawkwardly say hi to that handsome boy I seem to pass absolutely everywhere every day. I want to connect. I'm tired of these bodies I see swarming the streets of Provo, Utah. They're not inhabitants to color my world and fill it with movement. They've got hopes like I do, families and passions. I want people to be people again, not some disposable accessory I pass, like the plastic palm trees in Yoasis or the fake Fatcats fireworks.
Hey you: I just want to know you. Is that okay?