I love reading and I love talking about reading too. So this is the place to come when talking about being depressed gets a bit well….. depressing.
Literature is simply bursting at the seams with so called ‘mad’ people and I think they’re all bloody brilliant, every single one. Open the pages of your favourite books and there they’ll be, staring you smack in the face, unapologetic and bold as brass. You’re sure to find eccentric, sad and crazy people. There’ll be repressed, depressed, born before their time people. You’ll certainly encounter addicted, unhinged and misunderstood people. You’re bound to bump into love-sick, infatuated, pining, out of their minds’ with grief people. Popping up to say hello will be delusional, deranged, doolally people, weirdos, kooks, crackpots, cranks, fruitcakes, lunatics, nut-jobs, neurotics, hysterics, geeks, misfits, messed-up, muddled, maladjusted people, hell, even mad women- in- attics. You name it, there they’ll be.
I’m just going to pick some of my favourites and write a few words about them. Hopefully it will encourage me to read much more too as I have been very lazy on that front in the past few months. If anybody has ANY suggestions at all, I’d be extremely delighted to hear them! Please feel free to join in.