i often feel out of sorts, though i don't know what the phrase means. i felt a familiar feeling today, buying dumb stuff, not giving mister enough good stuff, cleaning the swamp of bad stuff and feeling futile.
i have to do right and i'm afraid i'll never really do right. i have to do what i'm able, and not just what i'm able with my limited energy and lifelong ennui and or anomie.  
i helped r. clean the garden. i cleaned house a little. i made a pizza. i did some good things, i didn't do too bad, but i feel sad. oh well, you don't want to hear about this. whatever happened to private diaries you might ask. the web, oh lord, the web happened. and diaries both expanded and atomized and disappeared out the window into the blue ether/or.
something dreadful is happening with the humans and they are consuming and destroying nature.