Stale Bread

I have had enough.

I cannot cope with buckets of information thrown at me day in, day out.  Recently I have been:

  •  learning names of current movers, shakers and losers 
  •  following conflicts, debates and other developments 
  •  sifting through facts and irrelevant data
  •  ignoring the latest spats on the feminist scene
  •  catching up on fashion trends
  •  ignoring parenting fads
  • memorising Dear Zoo and Postman Bear so that I can recite them on demand in hope to distract Peanut from diving into the toilet

Do not get me wrong, I like knowing what is going on in the world and there is nothing I love more than a good debate but increasingly I have been feeling like sitting down with my hands over my ears and screaming blah blah blah at the TV, my iPod and its constant updates, newspapers, radio and all the non-fiction books piled in front of me.

There is only so much one sponge can absorb.

I have been trying to be on top of everything and as a result I have nothing to say about anything.

I am taking a break from the world of news and constant updates because this is what it is like to be my brain right now:

Stale Bread

My loaf of brain has gone stale, the crust is mouldy;

greenish-blue stink and sprouting hair, my last fresh slice wastes away.

I have nothing to say.

Bloody politics.  Boring.  VIPs and celebrities dangle

from my key ring.  I don’t even try to understand

interest rates, independence twaddle and modern affairs.

Instead, I stuff my brain with carefully selected poultry grain.

Easy to digest and ready-made.  No complaints.


you go and listen. I’ve tried to keep it fresh. Years of whizzing

through university.  Vacuum packed knowledge.  Exams were a breeze.

They teach you what goes into well-made bread – you recite

ingredients in your sleep.  You have no idea

how to mix them.

My loaf of brain has dried out around edges.

Tough.  Dear judge, I have tried.

Put me in prison for letting my brain go off.

Sartre, Kierkegaard and Plato will turn the key

and bury it under the last standing library.

I even froze that stale brain of mine,

plastic wrap, no silver screen and the so called smart

technology – an orgy for hot air that made my brain go stale.

It did not help. There is nothing left. The shelves are empty.

I have nothing to sell.

And you…Yes, you over there.  No browsing allowed.

Either buy my stale loaf of brain or…

Go away.