I have been putting faith into one piece of technology for the last four or five years. I’ve had cell phones, five I think? and my good ole trusty IPad has always been there for me. Doing all my notes, giving me music to listen to, holding games that I’ve played to kill time. Now? It’s gone.
I went out last Saturday and slipped on the idiot upstairs neighbours slippery patch of ice. I slipped, fell backwards and slid into their stupid gate. It knocked my touch sensors to my iPad to shit. Now it doesn’t even sense that I’m touching it. I gave it almost a week thinking that maybe, just like times before, it would magically work once again. Not so much. I don’t have the heart to toss it. So, I will keep it with the the graveyard of cells that I have loved and lost in the past.
It brought to mind, how much of life has had that happen? Feelings, thoughts, unkempt promises, the death of wishes and hopes? How much do we actually just let go and become a part of our past? Sure we have lost loved ones, we all have, who hasn’t? I mean the little forgotten things? Old phone numbers, the feeling we got when we met the love of our lives, the hopes we had as children? Does everyone have a “graveyard” of things such as this? Such as my technology graveyard?
I’ve been thinking that a mind compartment like Jonesy in “Dreamcatcher”, could be the best way to hold onto these forgotten things. Isn’t that a neat concept? Keep all memories, feelings, thoughts compartmentalized? In a warehouse, that’s your mind? My warehouse would be filled with music, memories of good times I’ve had with people gone from my life, through death or just drifting apart. Useless information that would do no one any good, movie quotes…could you imagine? being able to see into the mind warehouse of different people? I think that could be a scary yet fascinating thing.
On this note, I’m going to mourn the loss of my trusty old sidekick of an ipad. I hope you have more to mourn than just the loss of technology. As silly as it sounds, to me, that IPad was like a baby. Time to move on. Time to either fix it or find another trusty and hearty technological companion.
RIP IPad 2011-2017.