The Mad Aunt

I consider myself to be a bit mad and I'm happy about that.  Not mad in the insulting way that some people use it. Mad as in delighted with life but sometimes, defeated by it. But I'd rather have the highs and lows than be barely alive. What is it to fit the human race so tightly that there is no room to breathe or to be really alive? We measure our happiness against our sadness. Without one, we will never know we have the other.

I live each day as it comes and dislike being thrown off course by aggressive people or difficult circumstances.  Being able to live alone in a solitary bubble is a gift too amazing to have destroyed by impositions.

I write all the time, for fun, for pleasure, for catharsis, and mainly for controversy and debate or argument.