You are not special. 

And you don’t belong anywhere.

This is a concept that should be explained. Since childhood, the proper value of this phrase has been snatched from you. People exchange dignified words like spare change, a burden more than a gift.

To be special, to be unique.

Are you either? No.

You can contrast an average of society, but there isn’t an experience that hasn't been lived before. Special and perfect go hand in hand, their definition nullified like racist jokes in Reddit forums.

We are the aftermath of a story whose main characters died centuries ago, we are not even mentioned in the blurb.

So why do we expect every bad thing, every good thing, every special thing; to happen to us? We are beyond irrelevant to the plot.

The chances of such are low, 1 in 8 billion (1.25 x 10^-10) so why are you still scared of spontaneous failure?

I speculate, each organism, present and past, has evolved to protect itself. “If a threat is possible, it is personal.” Humans have an emotive conscience but to the rawest material, we are all selfish, flawed, and covert narcissists. Even our organs think that way, doing absolutely anything to keep themselves alive. We would rather eat ourselves. We do rather eat ourselves. We are this way to live longer, you can never be selfless. Stop caring so much, be truthful with yourself. Reflect, you don't notice other people. Therefore, they probably don’t notice you. We are so self-focused we subconsciously are only thinking of ourself. People know you’re good, they just don’t care. You aren’t a god, you are the person people forget the name of. In the most comforting way possible.

Philosophers have been considering the meaning of life since the first dawn. Smart people decide to put science second, science stings. The truth has always been so simple, but we ignore it to boost the sense of living. Why does life have so much experience? So much emotion, must it be so much less? The meaning of life is the fact that it exists because it could. Because organisms could breathe they did. Because you can talk, you probably do. It doesn't matter what you contribute, what ideas you create, what quotes you beg to be repeated. Humans are the result of labour and luck. You are special, not because of what you've done, or who you are but the reasoning for being here. You are a miracle, and if everyone's a miracle, if everyone's special, then no one is. The word loses meaning.

Be comfortable in isolation, because belonging is the fashion of conformity. And we do not wear clothes to fit in; we do not paint ourselves in pretty colours and use pretty words to fit in. You don't fit anywhere. At the end of the day, after the first dawn, it will always be just you. Why do we identify ourselves by the people we are surrounded with? Like a sense of self cannot be just our name and hobbies. These people aren't special? Millions of them exist, the same exact person. Humans emotionalize context without logic; family isn't blood, and we all bleed the same crimson. That is why English is a subject. To dig deep into people who write things about being special, knowing they themselves could never be. In this day and age instead of flying in cars like we thought before, we are determining ourselves and each other in hashtags. We only care about the highlight reels of our lives that we post on Instagram, for the validation and the confirmation that we are special. Because you already knew, you weren’t. But that isn't to say you are not important, or worthy, or beautiful, or smart, or funny, or charismatic. You are. 

You are as charming as a bumpy road, scary, thrilling, but exciting. Never fill in the potholes. 

Be selfish, keep living. Your value is not quantifiable. 

Don't count it in likes.