Why is there an assumption of normality?
Who defines normal and what influences it to change?
In our zeal for conformity, do we create an ordinariness so we can judge others?
Do we hide emotion and perceived eccentricity in fear of being singled out and excluded?
Am I normal if I am a writer?
I have acquaintances, the only friends are family and Buddy, my Cocker Spaniel muse.
I wake up early every day for me-time to write — it is my consummate joy.
I come across as cold and uncaring but can read the subtlest of body language, nuance & expression.
I prefer to watch people going about their business than the movies or television.
I am uncomfortable in most social environments.
I never know when it is my turn to talk on the telephone.
I am quirky because I follow my instincts.
I influence and sway to achieve mutual goals.
I have no tolerance for bureaucracy or stupidity.
Am I normal enough not to be labelled?
Will I fit into life’s perceptions and find a suitable box in which to conform?
We are all exceptions to a preconceived norm we spend our lives striving for, but which exists only in the ignorant’s perception.
I am an author.
I don’t want to be normal.
I will share my uniqueness — join me.