An evocation of younger years. I'm thinking of the task of protecting one's self-esteem from the knocks of misadventure and the drudgery of daily life in those years before one's life has really got going; discovering that one is nearer the bottom of the pile than the top; working out those strategies by which one might not only survive but relish the small victories, the grim satisfactions of clawing out a niche in the pellmell anarchy of social life. Three words: defensiveness; resistance; ressentiment.
I'm not exactly in that ressentiment but there's a memory and a taste of it and suddenly (as it were) there's so much studying to do. Earlier in my life I was too busy being angry and following my own path; yes, studying, but through narrowed eyes – all that one is likely to do (at best?) is reinvent the wheel.
It is necessary to get up to speed before launching oneself (again) into the world. And what about joining the club – a place to think with others.