Not Bipolar...Keep that in Mind

I am not full of angst. It’s the strangest thing. “A teenager,” you ask “who isn’t particularly moody?” Well, the answer to your unasked question is a resounding, YES! Well, maybe not that excited, but still un-tormented by inner demons. At the same time, I naively wonder what it is like to be a tortured artist or a generally unhappy person. I wish I could be a deep brooding coffee house-dweller who reads edgy poetry. I’m not sure that I could handle it. Such emotional stress would manifest itself as physical stress and I would likely find myself unable to move by midday. Trustfully, I don’t know how they do it. I tried to be angst-y for an entire day once. I used a fight I had with a friend as the base for by anger and depression. I couldn’t hold on to it for more than an hour or so. Maybe I just don’t have the proper training. I’m not sure.
I’ve never really listen to much music. If you’d ask me a question on the subject I would stare at you, mouth slack, eyes glossy, and answer your inquiry with an eloquent “Gah?” Even the music I do listen to, I know little about. I tend to listen to big band era, jazz, and classical music. I know! What a freak! …I’m pretty sure I just called myself a freak, but I will venture onward. Something about a full, swingin’ band gets to me and I can’t help but perform a stereotypically white dance. When I listen to Bach or Hayden I almost have to do that goofy air composer thing. You know what? I enjoy doing what I do, so it doesn’t matter what it looks like…well, at least to me it doesn’t matter.
I think I lied a little bit when I said that I was angst-less. There is one thing that really (pardon the cliché) pisses me off. Why do people insist on making asses of themselves? Let me go a little more in depth. I think it is pretty safe for me to say that I really do little to gain the animosity of others. I really do live by my “dinky” code of conduct. I truly believe that we are all beings based in pure happiness, so I treat others as I would treat myself. I mean, if we are all capable of happiness, mankind’s primal nature, then what gives me the right to disallow another being of his/her true self? So, using my same logic, I am completely baffled by others who seek to destroy their fellow beings. In what stretch of the imagination does it make sense to ridicule others, especially another who does not retaliate or disserve mockery? Perhaps it sounds conceited, but I have done NOTHING to disserve others talking about me…BEHIND MY BACK! Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right, what have I done to disserve your venom?
Of course, I brush it off, but it the question still haunts me, deep in my subconscious. I know that no matter what you do, someone will dislike you, but I do not accept or understand their stinging remarks. I regress to my introverted meditation…release my anguish and return to Life. I must hold on to my beliefs, and thus remain my cheerful self. Life marches on and there is no point to dwell on the negative…what does it accomplish?