I am a nobody.

I am a nobody. I am boring. I have no witty stories, profound experiences or battle tales. I am absolutely uninteresting. Completely not engaging. I have not been sixteen and fought for female education and been shot at by Taliban. I have not been arrested for bringing a home-made clock to school. I did not have to go into hiding during the Holocaust. I have not survived cancer, I barely even get a fever. Nor am I a step-sibling to a wildly overrated ex-porn star. Neither do I have a natural talent for say singing, or origami. None. Zilch. I have been procrastinating and banging my head on the keyboard of my laptop for the past week while trying but miserably failing at composing college essays, cringing at my lack of profound experiences. I am just a simple girl who likes to sketch and watch Game of Thrones. I enjoy sunrises, those handful of moments when the dark skies are torn apart by fingers of rosy dawn. I am most content when I read classics. I like being transported to a faraway land, long long before I was even born; all while physically being cooped up on my window, but mentally miles and aeons away. I like discovering new cities, wandering around streets and lanes of a place I have never been before. I live for road trips with my family; for my dad singing the words wrong to the song on the radio, mum reprimanding my brother and I for getting us late. I absolutely adore the goofy times spent with my pet German Shepherd running around the meadow near our farmhouse. I derive great pleasure while solving challenging mathematical problems; numbers make sense to me. I have not fought for female rights, or racism. I do not have software companies fighting for rights over my genius software creation. I have no untapped source of talent. I am absolutely not extraordinary, rather extra ordinary. I am a nobody.