I am just one in a million. My name is repeated, my hair cut is copied, and my clothes are manufactured. My teachers are shared and my blue eyes are sung about. My house has been lived in and my roads have been driven on. My experiences have been generalized and turned into stories that match all the others, in all the other places, and all the other times. My music has been heard by thousands of others, and my books have been read just the same. My fears are relatable, and my tastes debatable, but never original. The things I find have been found forever and the things I see have been immortalized by pictures, and videos, and words. My adorations and loves have been felt by the world. My goals have been set by society and my disappointments have been universally felt. My food has been eaten and my language spoken. My state was declared and my country inhabited. My fights are common and their solutions found by others.

I am a drifter in the sea of dark, absolute sameness. A black hole of sharing and of billions of people. But then it hits me, as sudden as lighting, that our minds are unreachable to all but their owners. Our thoughts are our own, still based in the hole of repetition, but combination is the key. The way we relate and create keeps the world moving and the way we mix makes us ourselves.

I am just one in a million, but I can take from the millions and make my own version of sameness.