Word on the street

So, word on the street is, I'm a bit highstrung tonight. So, here I am, writing. I wish I had my own computer, since I've been in the mood for keyboard-style journaling the past few days, but hey, I'm here now, right?
A moment of honesty: my mind hadn't been as story and odd-J.D.-esque fantasy-vignettes as before in the past few years. It was still there, of course, but not as much as before, and it made me extremely uncomfortable, like I had lost something. Now it's back, full force, and I couldn't tell you why exactly, but I'm glad it's back.
There are so many reasons to be scared and angry and cynical, and I'm just not interested. Why do people do that? Why would anyone choose to carry that bitterness around with them? I've had moments of my own, where I felt that acrid knot of simmering-sobbing-sneering twisting up my torso, but I fight it. I try to let go of it. I came back.
I know this sounds childish, but why are people ever mean in the first place? I know that a lot of mean people are mean because they are sad, or because someone was mean to them. Why, the fuck, is anyone mean to someone who has not done anything to them? It just doesn't seem logical. If it's the whole unhappiness thing a la "misery loves company" I still have no sympathy for such people. Easy as my life has been relative to others, I would not wish my sorrow on anyone.
But do not despair, dear (imaginary) reader! I still hope! I know that there are other good people out there.
I just wish the fucktards would shut up or go away.