Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Surprise! Long time no hear, I know. But don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you guys. (I should be so lucky…)

I took some time off to do other shit. Work and stuff. You know how it goes. But it’s not like you bastards disappeared. (I should be so lucky…)

Tourette’s, it’s been a sticky summer already. Not sweltering, just sticky. And sure as shit, you’ve been hanging around. I thought we had a deal. I guess not. For the record, it’s only hot when you tear the sheets off a girl’s bed because of your amazing tiger sexin’ prowess, NOT because your shoulder’s doing some sort of weird dying chicken seizure and she just wants you to fucking lie still for a minute. We’ve got beef, Tourette’s.

OCD, I have to admit, you’ve been more laid back than I thought you’d be. Still, you keep popping up everywhere. I may have added olives and a couple other things to my repertoire, but my diet still belongs in a Nickelodeon cartoon. And I’m finding it hard to get work done because I keep fearing (and trying to skirt) imperfections. Fuck that noise. We’ve got beef, OCD.

Speaking of work, ADHD, you’re really getting on my nerves. I keep thinking I’ve trapped you, only to realize that the very process of trapping you has managed to distract me from what I’m supposed to be doing, which means, of course, that you’re not trapped at all. Also, my irritability levels have skyrocketed. I blame you. And coffee, sometimes. Mostly you, though. I don’t drink that much coffee. You know it’s true. We’ve got beef, ADHD.

As for you, Depression and GAD… Just knowing you fuckers are lurking somewhere in the background is enough to make me want to punch kittens some days. That’s an evil state of being. Nobody should be punching kittens. You’re making me evil. (Well, more evil.) That’s bullshit. I’m already as evil as I’d like to be, thanks. So yeah, we’ve got beef.

I’ll be back soon, believe me. I’ve got all sorts of fun things to tell all you morons. I also have more than a month’s worth of pent-up rage to vent, so get ready for sexy fun happy times! (I should be so lucky…)

(Not.)

Beefingly yours,
Bezuidenthustra

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Dear Readers…

Posted: March 23, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

I was gone for nearly a month on a whirlwind emotional tour back home to South Africa, but I’m back!

I should have a steady flow of new posts back up and running by the end of this week. As always, if you know of anyone who might be touched by, interested in, or frustrated with my blogs, please forward my posts. It’s easy to do. I gave you all kinds of buttons and stuff. So don’t complain to me about the technology side, okay? Use your mouse.

And thanks for reading!

Sincerely yours,
Bezuidenthustra

Dear Neuroses…

Posted: December 20, 2010 in Uncategorized

We have known each other for so long, I’m not really sure where to begin this letter. We’ve become so intimate over time that it’s difficult to take a step back and actually open up for once. Sometimes, though, you just need to say “Fuck it!” and do something. So here’s my first letter to all of you together.

Tourette’s, you were with me as a wee child, herkin’ and jerkin’ me every which way. I looked possessed. Perhaps that isn’t so far off the map. Perhaps I am Satan. No, wait… I meant Santa. No… No, Satan. It’s Satan. I’m Satan.

ADHD, you, too, were always around, sending me skittering all over the map and making it just about impossible for me to organize anything. Yeah, sure, you enhance my creativity, but who needs that, anyway? When employers say they want “creative” people they mean “organized and neat”. I’ve been telling you this for years. All you’ve given me in return are lists: lists of lists embedded within lists, with very few items checked off. You cheeky bastard.

GAD, you’re a relative newcomer, but I think it may just be that I wasn’t aware of your presence under my bed. Or in my closet. Or in my shower. Or between the couch cushions. Or in my phone. Actually, now that I think about it, you’re a goddamn stalker. I’d have you arrested if the thought of facing you didn’t make me so damn anxious.

Depression, you’ve been my lazy, annoying roommate for so many years. The least you could’ve done is clue me in when GAD was jerking off under my desk. But no. You’re an ass. Never helpful. I can’t trust you at all. So many times you’ve thrown parties, and we’d do shots together, and I’d think, Okay, now things are gonna be okay. Now we’re friends. Yeah, right. Invariably, a couple weeks later, you’d be back to upperdecking my toilet and fucking my sisters. And yet, for some reason, I still haven’t moved out or kicked you out. I think you might be drugging me. Given how lethargic I feel sometimes, I’m sure you’re drugging me. Asshole.

All of you are part and parcel of my daily existence. As infuriating as you may be sometimes, I wouldn’t be who I am without you. But nobody’s been more central to Bezuidenthustra, to my day-to-day, to my very definition of self, than you, my dearest OCD. You are my abusive lover. You make me think I’m exercising my free will, choosing to do things, when really you’re just bullying and manipulating me into doing your bidding. You’re cunning and capricious and absolutely all-consuming. I can’t tell what I like and what I don’t like anymore. My head’s filled with all sorts of lies and I just can’t drop them. They won’t go away. And all the while you’re pulling the strings. I’m like Pinocchio without the ridiculous nose. But I’m so comfortable with you, OCD! Why do you have to be so cruel?

I just hope these letters help me unravel my relationship with all of you. And if they don’t, at the very least I hope they fuck with your heads, because you lot are the wonky bits that have been fucking with my head for just about ever. Fuckers.

Yours in the DSM-IV (soon to be V),
Bezuidenthustra