My father once told me that the price of greatness is responsibility. Churchill. Or Spiderman, depending how you want to look at it. I call it bullshit. The price of greatness is pain, pure and simple. My Dad helped my Mom stab herself, on my bed no less, all in the name of some skewed version of greatness my family decided to have. My parents, my Aunt, my grandpa, all of them, all but brainwashed me to believe the same and I still have days I can't live with what I did to try to make them proud. And I'd love to say fuck greatness but the sad thing is, I still want to be great. Though most days lately I'd settle for so so.