What makes me unique?

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I hope you didn’t autocorrect ‘unique’ to ‘weird’ in your mind, nvm. While the universe creates humans, we are all unique. Over time, we’re influenced by society, family, and the friends we choose. But if you zoom out a little, it’s easy to broadly categorize people as unique, common, or somewhere in between. Of course, this is totally relative to one’s opinion.

So, do you want to know why I think I’m unique?

Well, I don’t really know what runs in people’s heads. I only know mine, and maybe this is just a classic case of a frog in a well thinking it’s special. For all I know, the things I’m about to share might be running in everyone’s mind, but since I’ve never talked about them with anyone, I can’t help but think I’m the only one who does these things.

When you see me being quiet, I’m not at all! There’s always something going on in my mind. Most of the time, I’m drawing something in the air—not with my hands, but with my eyes. They don’t make any sense. Sometimes, it’s a telephone with wings, or a man with long hair like Newton’s. My favorite, though, is tracing outlines of objects in neon colors. Humans are no exception—they’re just more objects in my drawing story. On buses, trains, and metros, I’m either reading a book or busy outlining people, poles, windows, and roofs. The colors shift depending on my mood. It’s fun, but also exhausting because I rarely let my mind rest. Meditation? Forget about it. My thoughts never stop running, and that’s just who I am.

Oh, and it doesn’t stop there. When I walk past trees, I imagine strings of tiny fairy lights wrapped around the branches, blinking in patterns only I can see. On rainy evenings, I watch droplets on the window and pretend they’re racing each other. I even bet in my head which one will win! And strangers? They’re like characters waiting for a story. Sometimes, I even make up backstories for strangers I see walking hurriedly down the street. "That man with the green umbrella? Oh, he’s definitely a spy trying to blend in." And don’t even ask about dogs. I could probably write a novel based on the expression of every dog I see.

And then, there’s my ongoing fascination with numbers. I randomly count things around me without realizing it; Tiles on the floor, the steps I take, or even the number of leaves on a plant. I’m not sure why I do it. Maybe it's just my brain’s way of keeping itself entertained. Sometimes, I even make up little rules like, "If I fill up the water bottle before the clock changes from 11:01 to 11:05, it'll be a great day!" It’s a game I play with myself, and somehow, it makes even the dullest moments a bit more exciting.

P.S. This was written about one year ago in my diary. It's funny to look back and realize not much has changed, I’m still tracing neon outlines!





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