I choose to ignore. Rather, I choose to disregard based on reasoning with myself and myself alone. I choose to seek for contentment. It is not a matter of ignorance explicitly, no, I'm not that naive. To myself, at least. For we always have a choice in being, and being that choice of being simply means acknowledging being with reason. Others will strive to interject, more often than not provoking qualm and remorse, intent fully seeking to do so for their personal and platonic gratification. More importantly, they choose to do so.

But we consequently have a choice in hand, or rather in mind. Why subject to grief or distress? Simply because we should? For the only reason we should be or do something speaks of how we allow ourselves to be interjected. We have the choice to decide whether we should or should not. Choose to rejoice, choose to lament. Choose to conflict ourselves under the worst of circumstances, or choose to take it frivolously, and with that interjecting contentment within ourselves. Our choice. My choice. Me, me, me, yada yada.