I jumped on the bandwagon. Everyone else was going down, and I mean, I thought I knew the basis of the movement, so of course that's what matters, right? So I went downtown. There were all these people there. All this passion. But I slowly realized that I was just there because it was fun. There were a bunch of other kids, my age, maybe older, sort of just there to have a good time, to try and get a rise out of some people. Like people without clothes on, or like doing drugs in the street, really weird stuff that totally had nothing to do with anything, but these young kids just wanted that feeling of being a part of something. We were high on life and our drug of choice was that incredible feeling that maybe you are a part of something that might change the world. It was awesome! But... Sort of hollow. Because what did I really know about what I was "protesting"? Nothing. I knew that I was a spoiled teenager, who had maybe missed out on a few things in life, but had certainly always been comfortable. Personally, I'm not unhappy it didn't last much longer. I think it did what it needed to do. Now we're talking. Now everyone's talking, even the people who didn't want to open their eyes to what was going on.