hoped for clearing

i had hoped for a clearing. but nothing is clear. and obomba's a fracker. it's this crazy weather. i mean global. has it always been like this. people are blase, they say this is nothing, remember the eighties, it's getting better. what's getting better? idiots, it's getting worse!  to everything turnturnturn there is a season, and annihilation is a cycle too, and a season free of human wrath and scourge. but meanwhile there are profits to be made, right obomba? and i gotta learn this fucking camera which to my addled mind is stoopid. and i stopped talk therapy and didnt get a clearing and i stopped, sorta, blogging and i didnt get a clearing, and what can you do if you are not brilliant but still an autodidact and wending in and out of the grid of immovable objects, if you are not brilliant and can't go on you go on like beckett without genius, with a borrowed scintilla of sun. which, very occasionally, can turn the whole world light.