Awash in Mediocrity

Two nights ago, I pretty much resigned myself to a destiny of mediocrity. I wonder if others of my kind ever come to this discovery as I feel I have, or just are. Mediocre.

For as long as I remember, I wanted to be someone that others considered special. I felt that life really had no meaning unless others paid attention to, appreciated, adored me. I don't deny that some of this may have been due to the emotional neglect I experienced growing up and/or my innate? narcissistic impulses. But now, after over 32 years, I've come to realize I will likely never be any of those things. I'm not being humble or even self-depricating. I've just finally begun to accept that I am not going to be anything special.

I'm not a bad person. I'm not a great person. I'm not dumb. I'm not brilliant. I'm not gorgeous, I'm not ugly. I have no particular talents or skills even. All I do with my spare time is read and watch movies. My life directly impacts about three other people. Sure, I say I want to write, but I rarely do. I'm never going to be an actor, so writing was all I thought I had, and even that, I'm too lazy or uninspired to do. It's not like anyone is going to sit me down and force me to write something. And the way things are going, I don't think I'm ever going to have any children, so I cannot even do that. Some people consider that to be the most important thing they've done in life.

I say all of this with a sense of regret, and I do regret. But perhaps I should stop beating myself up about it. Is just existing so wrong? It is just life, after all.