Me? Who's that?

Here I sit with nothing better to do than put my pen to this paper and write. What I write is nothing special, mainly just pretty swirls of purple that everyone calls letters. There's no one I could really consider to be a friend that I may talk to and be heard. I'm not mute nor am I deaf. But that doesn't seem to explain why it is when I talk that no one hears what I say. My own ears hear it, just as they hear what others say about me when they think I'm not there. It's like I'm invisible yet I'm not. A mirror still reflects my features which are also nothing of importance, basically blah from head to toe. I feel as if I am an improtant factor in the world somewhere but I just haven't yet found my place. Where is it? I often wonder. Not with the talkers, not with those who misbehave all the time, nor is it with the ones who always look fantastic. I just don't know. Me? Who's "Me"?