The Wall

There are moments I feel like I’m living two lives at once. One is visible: Dad stuff. Work stuff. Errands. Homework. Dinner. Normal enough. The other one is subterranean: constant missing anger identity confusion flashbacks existential static loneliness so specific it has a face And those two lives run in parallel all day. Most people only interact with the top one. Which makes sense. That’s the functional layer. That’s what lets the whole thing keep moving. But sometimes I want to grab the visible world by the shoulders and say, there is an underground fire under every normal sentence I speak.