Peculiar

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There is no greater sense of peace, than that which is experienced after a near tragedy.

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I read this long ago, in a book about rabbits.  As I recall, those rabbits were getting chased, but survived.  I read that statement over and over, because of its profound statement.  And, since the day I read it, it has come into my mind more than once. I suppose its because of my lifestyle, and what I have dealt with for over ten years.

I’m not aware of how your life is, but mine can best be summed up with one word.

Peculiar.

I did not seek it.  I did not request it.  As a matter of fact, I have longed for normalcy for most of my existence, but never really experienced it.  While most of the people go home at the end of the day to a fairly normal existence, I never know what to expect when I open my front door.

And, that doesn’t only refer to when I come home. I never know what to expect when I leave, either.

Of course, most people would say the same thing about their own lives.

But, while most people write about their hobbies, and some write about news and politics, I find that my work is mostly put in a category of that same word I mentioned above.

Peculiar.

I have seen my work being described by other writers.  They use other words to describe it.  All of them are accurate, so I can’t really fault them for using them.

Bizarre.

Unusual.

This is how they describe it from merely reading my articles, without a full understanding of what I actually go through on a daily basis.

I wonder what words they would use if they actually believed me…