Day 30

There are times in my life; those times that are paradoxically the least memorable, but also take up the majority of my life. You know the ones. The day to day grind-humdrum-ramp up-waiting for the crescendo-pick your metaphor for the in between the really punctuating points moments.
The plateau between the peaks, falls, and climbs.
In these moments, I will stumble upon an image. Something I cannot word perfectly, nor describe and that always frustrates me to try. It is a possible objective, if I were the character that an actor were trying to dissect.
This usually when I've been drinking; sometimes when I'm with friends, ALWAYS when I'm drinking with friends.
A mission. A quest as my Don Quixote De La Mancha fanboy would call it (the musical, not the novel. I can't read Spanish ...)
The dream, that impossible dream, is this: to do the most good by those whom I can help.
How do I bazooka style blast my way through all the bullshit and save the most of my peers?
Where is the H-bomb equivalent of helpfulness and generosity, that I may drop it and say "I am becoming generous!"
I wanna seek out and drop this Oppenheimer-esque support bomb on the vulnerable and the struggling masses, and in its wake instead of Carthaginian destruction find a prosperous forest of creativity and ingenuity. A paradise, where those who truly know what it is to do much with little, find themselves with abundance.
And so in the fallout of my Dr. Strangelove they; who know how to do so much with so little, will do what they do best: they will share. They will cooperate. Collaborate. They will support and seek and hope and make do with what they have, and since now they will have a hell of a whole lot: that's just what they will do!
...
What does that look like?
I shall shrug in reply.
The how and why are the responsibility of a sobered, rested mind.
But I do hope my struggling, striving self will look back on this reprieve and find a way to make a garden out of an idea.
Because that is what we need: more gardens. Already broken ground, for easy access to fertile soil so the many idle gardeners of this city can set to work on what they trained so hard for: growing things.
Failing to do this will cost time and effort.
But refusing to even attempt it, may cost a future of beauty and growth.
When you wake up tomorrow, think of this: make up your gardens, that the gardeners may grow.