Another day at school, and I come back home. I sit in my bed and think about the past 13 years I've lived. Some hard days, along with some good days. But to me it seems like there's no point. Walk to school in misery, and come back home in misery. Why should I live like this?

       I think about the past days, weeks, months, and years, and it makes me think it passed by so far. Soon ill be 30, after that I'll be 60, then I'll be 90. Why can't we have more time?

       I always have those thoughts, but I've never thought of it so deeply like I am right now. I think about the family vacations I've been to, the fights I had, but they all seem like yesterday. I'm only 13, but I'm already begging for more time. Time.

       Everybody thinks about time at least once in their lifetime, but people will always fail to answer their question and come back to the same question again. What is time?  Think deeply about it, and you'll be down in the pit of misery, and if you choose not to think about it, time will pass quicker than you ever imagined.

        So why don't you think again? And you'll realize to live every single day meaningfully and give your best, and you'll die happy.