I DO NOT KNOW if yeyo bonjour, my unauthorized biographer, follower, nemesis and well intended bizarro bloguer, has anything to do with this, but some how, yours truly has no more fans looking at his profile. As you know that is a way of measuring popularity.
At least this tool is not working. That is the conspiracy theory.
Another way to keep statistics as to the effectiveness between subject and reader
perception is the comments section in most blogs. I wonder why some authorities
in their own minds have blogs without this feature. At least one should bother reading the feedback with the exceptions made as is our case. One has a daily reader, unwelcome and all. The blog is like some churches.
On the other hand, when I visit blogs that are really something horticulturally, there is a tendency in other blogs as well: inane, impressionistic, adolescent like comments.
Often evading the subject at hand and sticking to the photos or videos or whatever gimmick is deemed necessary to express concepts when one lacks words or ways of
expression. Why should I have videos about gardening? Or politics? To express
better what I have no skills to do? For minusvalid readers?
The truth is that once upon a time there was some silly pride on those numbers and conscious/unconscious comparing with other blogs. Those that stink and those remarkable in India and Australia, for some unknown reason the most complete,
informative blogs in horticulture. Needless to say from in our third person world
wide known humble opinion.
THE OTHER possibility is that GOD wants to teach me a lesson in humility. Not knowing if any curious virtual reader looks at my profile, inquires as to the mental health of whom writes, either one goes nuts or proceed with equal enthusiasm, energy, same
grammar/parragraph construction and kicking butts. Insular and continental ones.
ONE thing I tell you. I am learning to tolerate the character, YEYO BONJOUR, who
took as nick the nominative of a central figure in the first or second best written novel in our language. The hilarious thing is that this respectable gentleperson, anyone is,
in certain circles,(even if you have been caught money laundering), believes and has expressed a hundred times, censored criticism as to my credentials, ego, writing in general just because my messages poorly written were thought as personal.
Sorry pal. If you feel pleasure coming to this blog in a daily fashion to express ideas with scorn in reaction to mine, I tell you this: as soon as YEYO BONJOUR appears on screen they are erased. I confess it is a pity. Those illusions of grandeur being wasted
to humanity, insular, that is. Suggestion: Go to your blog, which has been read by six people two of whom was I, and write: Censored Comments: WHAT endemismotrasnochado REFUSES TO READ DEARING NOT TO REACT.(sorry I will
not promote that opus). That may help your ego. It was dead until I sent that message to Yasmin or Yasmir or whatever
the hell his name is about the picture of uneven turf in your web site lifetime masterpiece.
That is what motivated you to harrass daily, to stalk this humble character. But I have to thank you. Being humble, not on a joking mode, is something intelligent people should aspire to be. For one simple reason. It attracts rather than repel, it
generates good energy. One in turn shows the best one has to offer. However endemismotrasnochado is about being critical. Our vocation.
We are not to make friends, groupies, and so on. Only HORTICULTURE, the planet,
habitats matters. Being a particle of dust, we come from it.
When we die only plants and trees planted will remain. Even memories
of yours truly in some other minds will fade, becoming water and salt. NOW,
yeyo bonjour/ screw yourself.
Note: I do not read your blog since it is a bizarro reflection of mine. On the other
hand you have no profile...I wonder why. jaha bilingual laugh. I would prefer if you stop inviting me there. When I want a reflection I look at the mirror.
Another note: To those other visitors, my apolygies if by any chance these words
look like: A letter to yeyo, caught in his spider web, looking for acceptance.