Skelotons in the closet (like a ton of skeletons or several bigs ones that weigh about a ton)

 I actually was going to edit several typos on my last mini blog. Oh by the way, I am no longer protesting literacy. I might actually take that grammar class that I have been threatening to take for the last decade. Maybe, unless I get distracted, and I am so prone to that. Distraction, it's a blessing really. It allows us to forget those little details. Sometimes we don't really need attention  to detail. There are some details that we just don't need.
  I went to visit my Aunt last month while I was in CA. She pulled the skeletons out and asked them to dance for me. They were happy to oblige her, they danced and made merry. They even invited friends, and thier friends,my they were scary. I wouldn't exactly say that they were skeletons. They were more of the rotting corpse variety. Hidden well, but oh the stench. I could smell it on myself for weeks after we parted, after several dozen showers even. I can still smell a bit of it on me now. I don't think that anyone else can smell it. They still look at me like I am a normal person and not this thing with a scarred mind. I'm fooling everyone, I'll become human again. If I just leave the crazy in California.
  What I want to know is, why is it when someone knows something truly terrible that they are always wanting to share it with another human being? Now don't get me wrong, if it is your business and I love you- Please by all means scar my mind. I'll bare it for you, and bury it for you. I'll share your burden. Just please if it in no way involves you or I or any others in our cast of players then let me live in the bliss of ignorance. I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is. I understand that this all sounds like a bunch of schizophrenia, and that's ok because TRUST ME when I say this. You do not want to know. You really and truly don't. I just needed to write about it.