It’s not what you think but think you knowThe
attention span needed to read an entire article, be it in the newspaper
spread out before him on the table or calling out to be clicked upon on
his phone, had long ago evaporated. Short attention span, lack of
interest and just poor journalistic skills were the reasons he held
onto. Each one he felt had played a role in killing off his interest in
reading. Which of the three was actually more to blame than the other
was of little importance to him. He knew that these three factures
together made sense to him in his world. A world where he used to
indulge himself in countless magazine articles, ones ranging from music
to health, world and local cultural events, to the randome occurrences
of life itself. Today, as they say, he couldn’t be bothered. Been
there, read that, he would say to himself. The same stories hashed up
and hash tagged. Sometimes he thought that it was just his own brain
refusing to process any more information than necessary. Like a
clothing dryer whose centrifuge is full, the clothing won’t get dry till
the filter is emptied. His brain like an over wet sponge that could no
longer retain information. When the waitress found the puddle on
table, the cash tip and the newspapers upon it soaking wet, she looked
towards the ceiling. She then called for the manager to make sure that
the pipes to the toilet on the floor above, had not sprung another leak.
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