Twittering Fool

What is the overpowering desire to write abosuletly nothing for others to read and in turn read their nothings. This twitter thing is fun, interesting and totally unnecessary or does it accomplish athing. But I am a fool, I love it.
Why is it we think that our thoughts and views are of such interest to others we must give that view at every chance or every avenue we can find? Is it not enough to talk yourself blue, listen to every conversation, insert your view, write on boards,emails and twittering place you can find? I am sure just like this post there isn't anything of real value that must be recorded for prosterity's sake. My children aren't interested in my ramblings, nor most friends, but I still type away.tweeting for fellow twitters who twit our lives away.

I need the oilcan tin man

Gee this one is a hard thing to put down. Lord I feel so inadeqant. I can't retain all the knowledge I need to change the situation I am in. When I do and try to put it to application, it seems that something always makes it a bad thing. I can't explain what I feel and thing in a sensiable way so that my children and friends understand it. I can't coherantly put together a simple plan to change what I need to change. I can't face simple changes of which I have no control and have to do which hurts my heart and I do it so unwillingly. I know we live in an "I" world, and I can't understand the thoughts and feelings of others so why do I unrealistically believe they should understand mine? It's like standing all day, everyday and banging my head at a brick wall, knowing I should stop, knowing I can't, knowing no one will come intervene and help me stop, and knowing I am a simple cog in the family that is sometimes never noticed until my small part sticks and stops the entire wheel from turning and knowing I am the one that will be filed, oiled and recrammed into position for the wheel to work smoothly once again to match the rest of the wheel. I am so just so very tired.

Over, Again

Well I am all, shall we say, settled in my room. I am still not crazy about it, except for my bed. No longer do I have a bar in my back..yeah...
Sometimes I go to reach for something and remember I no longer have it or its in storage. I got so dependent on my things. I guess most people do to, if they admit it.
My daughter will say now do you want it or need it...well actually I have gotten rid of so much of me in my stuff I can actually say for now I need it.
I feel so down and out, because all I do is sleep and work with a few and far between moments of entertainment. This is not how life was suppose to be at almost 60. I am in therapy, I have tried journals and now blogging. But writing so far doesn't seem to help at all. But I will keep it up...I can't get back into my cute diary that had so many entries..so I am starting over...yet again.