Maudlin Banalities

One of the most indecent things about OCD is the insufferable anger that it causes; petty annoyances, like fumbling to screw a cap back on a water bottle or light a cigarette, which takes so much energy that by the time its lit I haven’t the energy or lung-capacity to smoke it. My tolerance level is subnormal; at a level some would refer to as pathological or niggling. This constant need for order, things lined up in neat rows, books, slips of discarded paper, useless and droll reminders of my genius for maudlin banality. Should you have the patience, which I certainly wouldn’t, not for this drivel, this business of typing is merciless, a cursor-ous re-cursing cursor-ing, back-spacing ad nausea and with little regard for the gavel of my fingertips, none whatsoever. Just typing this nonsense has taken an extraordinary toll on my patience, tolerance and ability to stave off this persistent niggling, annoyance all lined up in neat perfect little rows, the tiers of my impatient niggling life.