I am not a technician of children’s souls. I am only a human and can care for them as such.

Fuck.

This week has been a rope unraveling. Work has been the most frustrating thing in my existence. I hate going. I hate how much time it takes in my day. I hate working to support this lifestyle. I hate not being able to come and go. Not being able to take days off because I want to. I hate feeling guilty about coming in late because I’ll make $20 less that week, 80 a month. i hate coming home and passing out. I hate coming home and drinking beer to chill the fuck out, succumbing to the inertia or home-work-home-work-morework-home.

I hate thinking about what happens next. I hate thinking what if this is all there is, from here into infinity. I hate waiting.

We institutionanalize our children. We rip them away from family, friends, and community and place them in scientifically managed, authoritarian environments. We do this in order to maintain the power of capital.

Many of us are uncomfortable with this arrangement, parents none the least. I watch as young children cry for their parents, pain in the separation. “Mom has to go to work we say, you’ll see her at the end of the day.” “She’ll be fine”, we say to Mom, “do you want to come play?,” we say to child. Eventually child will leave mother to play with teacher, mostly grossly underpaid, overworked and overstressed. After several months or years of this ritual, the crying mostly stops. When they don’t they are viewed as immature and aberrant.