Blissfully Ignorant

He's got his headphones on, oblivious to the world.
I hear what they're saying about him, it's not pleasant.
He seems immersed in his music.
I look out the window for a bit, listening to the hum of the chatter.
I look over to him, and he's still contented with the music.
However, their chatter and names grow louder, and finally I have to ask,
"Doesn't it bother you?" He gets a confused look.
"Does what bother me?" I am in disbelief.
"What they say about you?" He shakes his head.
"They say that everyday, I'm used to it." I shake my head as well, but in disbelief.
"It must bother you." It's only human, after all.
"Not in the slightest. You see, they think that everyday I have music. When really-" He pulls up the end of his headphones, revealing that they are connected to nothing.
I am shocked.
"Why do you listen to them?" He smiles, as if sharing a secret with himself.
"Their words are my music, I enjoy the sound, and they believe I am blissfully ignorant."
I get off the bus at my stop, and take a moment to reflect.
Unbelievable.
I shake my head and walk home.