The Winter is gone. It took away the storms and stuff with it. A very logical word, isn't it? Stuff? It's very descriptive. There will always be a time where all you'll want to say is "stuff". Now that I think about it, stuff is a pretty funny word to say repeatedly. Well, I'm sitting here, all alone, and I'm looking at the sky. It seems an ordinary day, in fact, a day you'd go on a picnic on. But, this day isn't ordinary. I know what's to happen. And my friends don't care. Whenever they ask why the hell I try to see them as often as possible, I reply 'Any moment tonight I could die, and I'd never get to spend the last minutes of my life with you guys...' Well, they think I'm mad. Well, I'll show them. I just see the world differently from others. When someone calls me a child I feel underestimated. When they call me small, in fact, they don't know what I've suffered in my life. When someone says I'm an idiot, I smile and say something idiotic. But deep down, I know that that smile is fake. It's just covering the truth. I'm quite intelligent. So smart, in fact, I've actually worked out how to act like an idiot to make people underestimate your capabilities. Everything anyone says makes me feel sadder. When I try to start telling someone my problems, they turn away and talk to someone else. They think I'm mad. Well, I'll show them. I'll show them all.