As I sit in the back of the classroom, I observe the people around me. None of them really know me, nor do they want to know me.

I am different – a nerd, an “emo,” a band geek, a Jesus freak, top of my class, and bottom of the social ladder.

There was a time when these things would have bothered me. Nothing much bothers me anymore, not really. I am different now.

I don’t care about the others because they really don’t care about me. I don’t care what they think, or will think, or might think. They are insignificant. I am insignificant, or at least I will be.

Who will remember me? My teachers probably, but that’s nothing special, they remember lots of people. When I am no longer here, there will be no one to tell who I really was, no one who has even attempted to get close enough to figure that out. But that doesn’t matter anymore.

In the remainder of this day, this is everything that I will do. I will finish out this class period, less than 20 minutes left to go. I will go to the band hall, get my equipment, and walk down to the band field. I will complete the trivial, meaningless tasks my band director sets before me. I will go home. Then I will cease to exist.