I am not cool

My whole life I have been followed by the sense that although I am in no way an underwhelming person, I have never been someone to look twice at, physically, mentally, or spiritually.
I was always that loud kid with the above average grades and mediocre looks that scored major kudos with the teachers, and frustrated distant stares from classmates and colleagues.
But when I reached college, I felt different. I finally thought I could dress for the weather, hair in a loose pony, and speak my heart without feeling like an outcast for knowing the answers.
I don't get invited to parties. I get asked out to study dates and paper writing soirees.

I am not cool.
I never have been.

It befuddles me to think that I am just now coming to the realization that the only reason people like me is for the personal gain they seek. It hurts to think I don't get second glances because I wear baggy jeans and flip flops to class. I guess there are two things I want: selflessness and sincerity. College may be all about gain, but I spend a majority of my days trying to save someone else. The least the universe could do would be to try and save me. [Maybe I'm not savable.]

What kind of gain could an ultra-creative all knowing and powerful God want with someone who is full of so little uniqueness that she begins to resemble the herd of people she walks through? I am not different or creative enough to change anything, I am not beautiful enough to get anyone's attention, so I might as well stop trying. I keep waiting for Him to use me, but instead I repeatedly feel like I was stood up at prom by an out-of-league date.

I am not cool.

I used to want to be a book, filled with pages of adventure and stories that could change the world.
But now I feel like a magazine, overstuffed with worthless knowledge that does little more than collect the dust of collective brokenness, created by our consumeristic society.

I am constantly shaken by the feeling of absolute misplacement. I do not belong.
This is not my home. I do not have a home. I do not have a safe place. I do not have a haven.
I am a jackdaw, the frighteningly large Middle Eastern crow that dwells in solitude and travels constantly, lost in a desert of unfamiliarity.

No matter how badly I want to fix everything in the world with my smiles and good heart, I can't. But Martin Luther King Jr could, and Mother Theresa did...

I am not cool.