Today's Muse: ANGST! WOOT!

Angst. That seems to be the flavour of the day.

It started innocently enough. An article in the Sunday paper complaining about today's youth. Why so much angst? I pointed it out at breakfast, amused by the writer's persistance. The adults present nodded, clucked, and no more was said.

At least, no more should have been said.

A seed had been planted. A tiny, inedible seed, with all the persistance and naviety of it's author. Two, three weeks on, it burst open in full ugly bloom. Oh, there had been signs, seeping through the cracks - An offhand comment or two - the word angst creeping into the vocabulary of every person above twenty in the household.

Why so much angst?

The word has replaced every other conceivable adjective used to describe me. I miss the Peneng Hokkien that used to be levelled at me. Now, it's just angst. She's full of angst. Leave her alone, she's angsting. Stop spending time angsting at the desk. Such angsty music! See, watch these movies, teach you only to angst. Stop angsting at your sister. Read all those comics, so much angst. That's your idea for a book - Wah, so much angst. Do you want me to slap you? Stop the angst!

Here's a fun fact: Through years of trial-and-error, I have discovered I'm pretty bad at holding grudges. I just plain suck at it. Sure, I get riled up easily, but as quickly as it bubbles up it dissolves. It's a bit of a problem when I get into grudge matches with Mother; in about five minutes I'd have forgotten about what we were fighting about it and be trying to speak to her while she's still sulking. It usually ends up with me fustrated; why doesn't she get over it as quickly as I do? [I'm a silly silly child, I am.]

When I do attempt to hold a grudge, there are often long periods of ammesia, and I have to drege up that anger to remind myself why. That whole sentence read like some poor translation out of French. Most times I give up and settle for apathy.

So, I don't think I really am the embodiment of the word angst. I pretty much, by default, suck at angst. Too short an attention span.

I am more than just angsty. I am a spoilt brat too used to having her way, overbearing and obnoxious, and I think I know everything there is to know. So there.

[Watch this space. Long rambling soapbox speech to come in near future, when it has been properly reviewed.]