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I love bread. I love a big fresh fluffy loaf of white bread. There are a handful of people who remind me of bread, right down to the innocent whiteness of the core. Theses people, like bread, have the potential to be so many nice and tasty things, all great, be it a lovely toasted Nutella sandwich or even part of the stuffing at Christmas dinner; there are so many paths for this bread to take, and all of them are just as good, and even if it chooses to take none, it is still fresh and plump and just smells amazing.

And then there are other people; these people are like the common bread mold, destroying the pureness that was once the loaf of bread. You can see it, yes you can see it, who ever your loaf of bread may be (or are, in my case as I have a few) you can visibly see this mold destroying them, making them worse and you want to cut it off. There’s a slight problem though, the only way to get rid of the mold is to hack off the part of the bread that it’s connected to, but the bread won’t let you do that.

The bread is content, sometimes the bread likes the mold there, it doesn’t understand the damage, and who are you to say something? You don’t fully understand the symbiosis going on here, if you speak up you’re basically some out-of-place bitch. No fancy metaphor here: you’re just a bitch.

Other times though, the bread does not like the mold there, in fact the bread may have various different types of mold; not all of them common and none of which it wants, but it’s scared. Scared of change, or maybe it wants to change and it just can’t. It can’t break free.

Visibly watching this mold take over more and more of the fresh bread, watching the potential and the freshness leave and the once pure white get over taken by the monstrous fungus; it’s upsetting, more than upsetting, it’s full on painful to watch. It’s disgusting and you’re watching this and you want to yell “GET THE FUCK OF MY BREAD” but you sit back and you bite your tongue.

At the end of the day, the bread allowed the mold to be there, if and when the bread really wants the mold to leave, then and only then can we help the bread to separate itself. In the mean time we should let the bread be moldy- even if it kills us inside. We should respect other people’s decisions and allow them to learn their own life-lessons, not have us force feed them down their throat.  The bread will be ok, and I guess all we can do is be compassionate when the bread asks and needs us to be. Sometimes bread gets moldy and that’s ok, it’s all part of life.


About saoirse

A young adventurer like yourself.


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