Why declassed?

I don't know. Nobody knows. Looking for declassed meaning? Well, the following citation might give some clues:

And so I solemnly announce: till the end of my days, I won't undertake anything to repeat my sad experience of eminence. I'll stay at the bottom and from down there I'll spit on all your social ladder. Yes. One spit on each rung. To climb it you should have a shameless muzzle with no fear, you should be a bastard, forged out of pure steel from head to toes. But I'm not like that.

– Venedikt Yerofeyev

Venedikt Yerofeyev was a Russian writer and Soviet dissident. The citation above is from his poem in prose Moscow-Petushki, which was published in a few English translations as Moscow to the End of the Line, Moscow Stations, and Moscow Circles. I've seen them on Amazon, so you can try to read that. I highly recommend.

I write down all my essential thoughts here when I don't want to do anything else.

Life at the bottom, which I had a chance to live last year during my long move, was a great experience for my junior. The kid must have seen that and now he has seen everything.

However, I need to make something to bob up. The easiest way would be work for money as before, so I'd make a big heap of shit and ride it, to the surface. But I see neither light nor fresh air up there. So I won't. At least, I have no least desire to do that.