What does a writer do when he doesn't want to write about it? What does a thinker do when thinking comes so hard. What does a doer do when yearning to do a thing has long since left him? You do stuff, you think stuff, and then you write it down.

Is it a lack of courage to face those words as they appear across the computer screen? Or can I blame it on depression and take another nap. Those nagging words that strain against my fingertips, they taunt me. They will not rest until my fingers touch those black and lettered keys while thoughts escape the prison of my dark subconscious mind.

In August 2009, I signed up for a twitter account. I didn't know what twitter was or how I might make use of it. After ten years of PTSD darkness and a year of therapy, I timidly made that tiny step toward an on-line presence in social media. So I signed up, peeked around a little, got an uneasy feeling and just decided to forget about twitter.