What is the most noteworthy thing you’ve ever done with your life?

            Think long, think hard. We’ve got time… or do we? No matter. That’s another topic for another day.

            It’s important we discuss such matters so that such matters are not overlooked, you see? There is not a plan that never lied dormant—flat, dead—before erupting spontaneously from brain to toe, flourishing through winter airs and summer breezes, fluttering for all to see. How often can torpid minds unleash savage wizardry of this realm in which we live? How many times can we rely on that which is most sacrosanct to pull us through, whether or not luck raises its palm and has its say?

            The palm I want to see is perennial. The say I want to have is this.

            It’s not so much a matter of saying, after all, as a matter of doing. This is impervious and implacable, no matter the matters at hand. No matter the means. The means only mean to be meaningless, as long as the ends meet or have met in courteous fashion. We couldn’t survive otherwise. Otherwise, the matters mean to say we mean nothing that matters. And I refuse to recognize that belief, as it can only lie to remain true.

            I never accredit anything that lies to remain true. Well, almost never.

            There are forces at work, my friend—forces that whip and whirl and twist and spin, forces that focus on folks of unfortunate circumstance, forces that live and breathe and spray-paint buildings soft and silver. They’ve caught my eye but I’ve never seen them. They look at me when I look away.

            The problem we encounter is that of ourselves. Or is it? We weren’t the ones who put up the wall, we are the ones who tear it down. It’s not a space in which we seek, it’s a space in which we found—each other and ourselves, screaming adages in need of bandages while phantoms fasten atlases on shivering cactuses. Pardon me, I mean cacti. Can’t I? I can’t call it, but I can: ball it up, toss it out, start over, forget to rewind, become uneasy, fall down stairs, hit my head, wake up hungry, lock the door, check out the show. And, my friend, it’s a show you like. Yes. Mhm. Very much so. Don’t believe me? Then we’ve encountered a debacle, which is impossible because here there are no obstacles and certainly no constables. Nonetheless, an issue issued is a point of interest and a deep discussion is knowledge gained. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?

            What’s the point if it’s not focal?

            There’s a time and a place for everything and this is the time and the place for this. If not, it wouldn’t be. If I hadn’t, I would not. Yet alas! it does and we do and we think and we move by the twos and the fours across polished floors until the night becomes morning and we leave without warning while the sky is still pouring and we make it back home. Taking for granted you have one (a home that is), a bold assumption in a bold time. If we can get used to harassment in the workplace and corruption in the office we can get used to a little ol’ fashioned boldness here and there. They say never say never, but I still do. My ‘used to’ is used up and I wouldn’t want the damn thing back anyway.

            If we can make it here we can make it anywhere. If we can make it there, I know we can make it back again. But why in the hell would we want to do that? “To the cliff and over,” that’s what someone said—someone with a brain and a heart and a soul and a mind, past half livin’ half of the time.

            So leave your shoes on, remove your reservations at the door. Don’t RSVP unless you’re under the sea and need an alibi to soak up the abyss a bit longer than previously presumed.

            ‘Premeditated’ is a strange word when it’s not followed by murder. Isn’t that strange? I thought so—I still do. But I don’t think I think nearly as much as I think I do. Sometimes I think that I don’t nearly think enough. I don’t give it much thought anymore.

            Anyway, as I was saying: the show is near the show is here the show is now the show’s in town! And I believe you’ve had time to answer the question—oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the inquisition! No, not twelfth century Europe! Twenty-first century earth! Its simplicity is oftentimes masked by its crucial importance, a significant imminence emanating an existence of crude naïveté. You’ve misplaced your reaction? That’s all right, because this is all real. This is tough. Don’t let them win. Get up, get right, get gone. Get with me or get lost.

            Excuse me.

            Get with me and get lost. Lost in the fog on a salacious evening, lost in rustic sunshine on a Thursday afternoon. Why do we capitalize days, months, and continents but not planets, ideas, and chances? No matter, never mind. I don’t mind never but our minds do matter so to never mind matter is a matter I never find. I found the founders from under the fountain who just wanted to have fun in the future but failed the foundation frugally when exchanging their fundamentals for futility. They never told me where they came from, but I knew where they were going. For someone like me, it’s the opposite—I know from which I came, but not to which I go.

            I’m getting ahead of myself! Tonight I go to the show. Do you approve my endorsement? Have faith in my taste? Or au contraire, fine monsieur or mademoiselle, do you upend my opinion? Do you disregard what I recommend? I have an extra ticket and the schedule for the streetcar. It stops at my corner, again at the theatre. Chariots await! Oh, you’re awaiting my response to the question. Ok, good friend. Fair enough.

            I have not yet done the most noteworthy thing of my life. That’s my answer. Unless you count this. Are you taking notes?