I often feel I have this ability to get immensely attached to crap, few times people, but mostly things. So like most people of this generation, my phone is , well, a priced possession. The difference is, in my case,the love is not so much for the new swanky,oh-my-God-I-dropped-my-phone, but for the one I gave up...willingly!
It may not have been the smartest of smart phones, but it never tried to be smarter than me. It never dared correct what I wanted to say. So when I wanted to say ‘Swet Mamaries’, it did not make it all boring and proper ‘sweet memories'. It let me say what I want, merely suggesting, just like the very modest MS Word. It understood that sometimes I talk like a retard or a meme. It knew I could never be wrong, inappropriate may be, but never wrong.
I’d like to think I’m a writer, well, I could be one. The BB knew it, it let me type, type type type.the laughter, the anger, the awwwws...I’m such a typer. I like to type, not swipe.
Last but not the least; it gave me the one thing I treasure most-conversations.
The world of snide status messages, mooching off cute, funny display pictures and all those special dedications, why bother with Facebook when you have BBM. It was my private little world of my people, where I could ignore everyone and anyone who didn’t belong. The most random, insanely crazy, exasperatingly emotional, absolutely ambitious chats and anal arguments. The future plans, the nostalgia and that one off conversation that you could read over and over again and it still wouldn't m make any sense. No Whatsapp will ever be close to what you were BBM. I can;t relate to an instant messenger without a biggg hugg emoticon.
I now have embraced the new world of technology and not seeing a waiting sign every two minutes makes me want to be here right now.So until I drop and break this new glossy glass....
P.S This one is for all my fellow ex and current bbmers and BB loyalists.