I keep on finding myself somewhere I don't belong. 
Sounds melodramatic, but it's obviously common.

I do my best to shut down the world outside me.
Not to protect myself, but to protect them from me.

Isolation was my usual cure and writing was my therapy.
Reading is my escape from from self pity that I carry.
  
I'm not good at anything, I just happen to know something at everything. 

I might be the perfect mediocre, a jack-of-all-trades.
Unique, just like everyone else.