Joshua sat on his bed, surrounded by stacks of books, each one a testament to his insatiable hunger for knowledge. His desk was a mess of half-finished projects, each one a testament to his inability to focus on any one thing for too long.

The walls were adorned with posters of famous scientists, philosophers, and writers; their faces gazing down at him, judging his inability to emulate their dedication. The only splash of color in the room came from a small painting of the night sky, given to him by his grandmother.

As he sat there, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't help but feel like he was trapped in a life that wasn't meant for him.