“Hey, my name is Pen. I’ve been traveling around the Bay Area asking people what makes them mad and what they’re doing to fix it. May I interview you?”

I recited this phrase, or some variation thereof, so many times on Wednesday Nov. 11, 2015, it started to lose meaning. Twelve hours of riding around on public transportation asking the same question to people — and even more time asking it to myself. It reminded me of that one day I said the word "spoon" a million times and ended up thinking: Why in the hell did they call it that in the first place? What does it really mean? What does it all really mean!?!

At one point, I got mad at the question. At another point, I got angry with the premise of the project I was working on.

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