Déclassé means a lower class of living. In this case it is a choice.
From a young age, I was a philosopher. Not always searching for the meaning behind what is around me (though I do my fair share of that), but also seeking the best of what could be and unremittingly reaching for it despite the fact that it is most often not reality. If it were, it would likely not become widespread.
My thoughts are often on a different plane, so to speak, of ideals and perfection. That plane where philosophers often fly and are reprimanded.
Out of necessity, I have learned to live in a “realistic” way, as many call it. Yet, my innate mind is ever searching for perfection, or at least the true ideal of mankind.
For so much of my life, I have been saddened walking amongst those content living in a self-damned state of lesser potential: Eating food that often does more harm than good, because it satisfied the needs of a lower price and an addictive taste. Watching films with little or no character development, with emphasis clearly spent on appealing to the most dramatic sights that increase dopamine and addiction: Namely sexual cues, bodily harm, imminent destruction, compelling music and popular phrases and actions. Buying products that fall apart quickly so they can be sold cheap and will guarantee a more recurring pattern of purchasing.
Nevertheless, I am not sad as often as I used to be. In fact, I have found a way to experience greater joy than most joys I see in the dead eyes around me. I accept the widespread déclassé as what will most likely remain the majority and then I search for treasures that, amongst such dull creations, stand out as the crimson red raincoat worn by a child dancing in the puddles, surrounded by grey figures, wearing and living grey day by day.
I have learned to not only appreciate, but hope for a large opposition around me, in order that my joy might be greater. A glass of water is gold in a desert after a day without it, but it is worth nothing in a rainy lakeside town.
“Opposition brings concord. Out of discord comes the fairest harmony.” —Heraclitus
Having searched and found and tasted delicacies, I can witness to you that, though rare, there are wonders in this world from those who have left it and worn a crimson red rain coat. They are dancing in the puddles, ignored by most around them. They don’t have the plethora of grey money that many have, but what they do have brings ecstatic joy. Finding them and the treasures they freely give takes a lifetime, but it makes for a lifetime with fulfillment in each step and provides an unparalleled reward after great trouble.