portugal looks at my blog but american's are dropping like flies. it's miniscule anyway, but i'm curious why one country picks up and others drop off. and i mostly wonder in my secret heart why people look at all. is it random? i probably wouldn't look myself most of the time. i remember this art teacher saying Make what you want to see on the wall. but that seems to be impossible much of the time even if i have a good camera. my mind falters, my soul sags. i feel a nameless despair at the world, and if i didnt have Copp, and i had the requisite fierceness, i'd kill myself.

i don't think i'm a hypochondriac, but that may just because i hate doctors and am fatalist and have no health care, but i do feel sick with some inscrutable malaise, like chronic fatigue, and i'm not sure, maybe brain disease, ha, i do sound hypochondriac. anyway what to make of this bloggage in portugal, since even my confreres(?) in e pluribus unum don't see it. it really is like in space no one hears you rant or moan sorrowful. iis this worth editing? first i'd have to get a life, ha. really you're not reading this? please don't. i'm embarrassed. really i am perverse. pleasure from shame? i think. so crazy, how'd i get beyond therapy. ha, this is my therapy. (i'm also ashamed of our filthy beach, the lake is a dump. in the human season giant machines rake it clean, but humans also drive away the dogs.)