But when you’re weak, it’s the Holy Grail you’re two for one, it’s a fire sale and that’s a wall that you cannot scale so you’re forced to burrow under I wish there were two of me. Though, there are two me. We wear masks, a different one for every setting. And the more I think about it, the less real I feel. My blood begins to boil as a coworker tells me a story about an elderly woman working to support her dead beat offspring, their equally dead beat wives, and their children. There is violence within me. We’re all capable of it, but most of us live life in passivity. There have been other moments where the monster has crept into my…