Your abnormality can't be photographed. It can't be written. It will be useless if you tried to paint it. It's not after you cried. It's not while you're laughing. It would be out of time and space and for some time maybe nobody will recognise it.
You were punching the walls and it didn't mean a thing. You were drinking until you're deadly drunk and it wouldn't make you sleep. You were smoking your lungs out but all you know is it's just normal. Perfectly normal that it can't help you fit in.
It's so normal that you feel abnormal and it's so logical.
The day you waited for something to happen, reading your book but not really understanding the words, watching the television but not really seeing a thing, listening to music but not really receiving the sound, third world war broke out. There were bombings all around, people screamed in pain and loss, war photographers shot the most gory details but you didn't realise.
The day you waited for a knock on the door, some girl was knocked off just outside your apartment. But it was not the special something you waited for, so you were indifferent.
The day you were so sad that you didn't even realise you were crying, somebody pressed a button and a part of the world gone down. Zombies emerged out of concrete walls, Pluto committed suicide because it was no longer a planet, the Pope faced death and declared religion was nonsense. The day you watched the walls all day, they showed a fictional movie that ended in a real massacre . The day you thought only sky was the limit to your creativity, the saucers visited Earth for a mad tea party. The day you felt alone,all the world's communists and capitalists copulated for a new ideal. But you weren't there. It was the day you thought you'd quit creating anything because all you saw was inadequate beauty and mediocrity.
The day you felt you didn't fit in was just a normal day for everyone else in the world.