I woke up this morning thinking rebellious thoughts, like a 10 year old kid forced to do something that I don't want to do,then I remembered. Between 4th and 5th grade I moved from a public to a parochial school. I fought the switch tooth and nail, I didn't want to switch, but when the school year started I was switched. I think sometime that year, I gave up, I stopped trying because trying was going along with something I didn't want to do. The kids were mean and I didn't stick up for myself though I was big enough. I stopped caring and in high school read too much Sartre for my own good. Funny how we identify with philosophies that confirm our own pathology. So much of philosophical conclusion is pathologically based. What I learned from Sarte was that we are placed in a meaningless life without a manual. Post WW2 France is all you really need to say to understand where he was coming from. I'm still rebelling. I was almost a teacher going back to school to rebel again. What a fucking waste, a reactionary life built sparked by a few years when I was a kid. I know I'm on to something from the jitters. Even though this means changing for the better, there is a sense of loss, a sentimental nostalgia for a way of life you knew. When you remove something that has affected your life, there is a void, and if you don't fill it with something positive, either the old stuff comes back, or something worse fills it.