As I write this I feel obligated to tell you that I’m tearing my hair off for being an idiot and setting Echoes by The Rapture to play on full volume. Okay. I’m done.
I’m writing this because one, WRITE LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER and two, I really sofa king miss my iPod. I do. Yes.
It died. Like a month back. For no fucking reason. At all. It was working fine hours before it died and when it did, this is how it went down (at least in my head):
A month has gone past now and I’m tired of stealing my seven year old brother’s iPod after he’s gone to bed. I’m charging the fucker. Like right now. It has a camera and all. Is really smooth. Shiny. Very shiny. But she’s not the same fucking iPod that I had. That I knew and loved.
She ain’t my bitch, son.
I loved my iPod. What? She has feelings too. Yeah, she’s a she. Look. Technology has indeed become that much a part of our lives. We love them as much as we love everything else that’s ours and is a part of our lives. Right now, we love technology (at least till they become sentient- then we just BLOW UP the motherfuckers).
My iPod came with me everywhere I went okay? She was there with me when I was happy, sad, horny, angry, passive-aggressive, bored, sitting in front of the computer, sitting in front of the tele, sitting in general, on the terrace, in the bathroom, in my pants pocket, in Kerala, in college, bunking classes... you get it, right? She was there. I loved her.
Sure I might have dropped her a few times. Accidentally. Sure I pushed down a couple of times... accidentally. Sure I covered her in oil from all that fucking popcorn, but it was only because I loved her. Indeed.
I loved every bit of her. She wasn’t perfect, she was mine. Sure she didn’t have a camera. Sure she didn’t have that open source OS that’s supposedly better than the OS she came with. Sure I like LOLCATS.
I still remember the day I got her. Not really. But maybe that’s because you only remember moments about the things you love. Like how she had that brand new shine when I unboxed her. That same new shine that only a pornstar can have IRL. Made me feel like I had balls of steel. Oh how it felt just to touch her. To hold her. I felt like superman. I felt like a bad motherfucker.
I look at her wasted body now... no, it’s not a body anymore. It’s a carcass. I look at her dead form and I’m reminded of how I fell asleep with her by my side for the first time, how I made her capacity seem bigger by snapping on a back cover that said 16GB when she was clearly only an 8 and many other things that I cannot be bothered to remember right now. But it was good. And now I miss her because- poof!... she was gone.
And nothing can bring her back. No, seriously. I checked.
I carried her to an “Apple Authorised Reseller” because no one else could fix her. I took her out and guiltily handed her over to a guy who I was told was the “technocian” (no... that is not a typo) as I shamelessly listened to Muscle Museum by Muse. He came back later and told me he couldn’t save her, but I could fork over eight Gs for a replacement.
One does not simply walk into an “Apple Store” and get their iPod replaced. No. I had to call Kuwait. Not surprisingly, no one answered. And then, I called my dad. And he told me that we needed to think it over. Surely, he was grieving too. It could be no other reason, now, could it? COULD IT?
I got back home and life went on. I used my little brother’s iPod whenever I could manage to steal it. But it felt wrong just holding the damn thing. Not because it was my brother’s iPod, I steal shit from them all the time. Not because I used it to record the Asuras on Antacid. But because I felt old just holding it. It was something new. I wasn’t. I was twenty one. Fuck.
Hey it’s not the end of the world, right? At least I’m not older than some of you shit wankers (couldn’t resist).
Maybe I should just shut the fuck up and listen to Whatever by Godsmack on the stolen yet awesome iPod 4G.
Fuck you, bastards.
This is my blog.
I’m writing this because one, WRITE LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER and two, I really sofa king miss my iPod. I do. Yes.
It died. Like a month back. For no fucking reason. At all. It was working fine hours before it died and when it did, this is how it went down (at least in my head):
ME
YAY! CHARGE MY IPOD! YES YES! YAY! LADY-(various crap artist names have been removed because well... they’re lame)- ALL DAY! GOTTA CHARGE!
[FIVE HOURS LATER]
ME
CHARGING DONE NAO?! I CAN HAS MUSIC?!
[TWO HOURS LATER AFTER FRUITLESS GOOGLING FOR SOLUTION]
ME
NOOOOO! Y U NO TURN ON? HOW CAN YOU?! YOU DIED ON ME? HOW? WHY? WHAT DID I DO? WHAT DO I DO? I BROKE THE IPOD, MOMMY! NOOOOOOOO! WHY DID YOU DIE ON ME-(it goes on like that for like... ten more minutes)- WHY GOD? WHY?!
GOD
Because you didn’t believe in me (read: because fuck you, that’s why).
A month has gone past now and I’m tired of stealing my seven year old brother’s iPod after he’s gone to bed. I’m charging the fucker. Like right now. It has a camera and all. Is really smooth. Shiny. Very shiny. But she’s not the same fucking iPod that I had. That I knew and loved.
She ain’t my bitch, son.
I loved my iPod. What? She has feelings too. Yeah, she’s a she. Look. Technology has indeed become that much a part of our lives. We love them as much as we love everything else that’s ours and is a part of our lives. Right now, we love technology (at least till they become sentient- then we just BLOW UP the motherfuckers).
My iPod came with me everywhere I went okay? She was there with me when I was happy, sad, horny, angry, passive-aggressive, bored, sitting in front of the computer, sitting in front of the tele, sitting in general, on the terrace, in the bathroom, in my pants pocket, in Kerala, in college, bunking classes... you get it, right? She was there. I loved her.
Sure I might have dropped her a few times. Accidentally. Sure I pushed down a couple of times... accidentally. Sure I covered her in oil from all that fucking popcorn, but it was only because I loved her. Indeed.
I loved every bit of her. She wasn’t perfect, she was mine. Sure she didn’t have a camera. Sure she didn’t have that open source OS that’s supposedly better than the OS she came with. Sure I like LOLCATS.
But that’s not the point.
I still remember the day I got her. Not really. But maybe that’s because you only remember moments about the things you love. Like how she had that brand new shine when I unboxed her. That same new shine that only a pornstar can have IRL. Made me feel like I had balls of steel. Oh how it felt just to touch her. To hold her. I felt like superman. I felt like a bad motherfucker.
I look at her wasted body now... no, it’s not a body anymore. It’s a carcass. I look at her dead form and I’m reminded of how I fell asleep with her by my side for the first time, how I made her capacity seem bigger by snapping on a back cover that said 16GB when she was clearly only an 8 and many other things that I cannot be bothered to remember right now. But it was good. And now I miss her because- poof!... she was gone.
And nothing can bring her back. No, seriously. I checked.
I carried her to an “Apple Authorised Reseller” because no one else could fix her. I took her out and guiltily handed her over to a guy who I was told was the “technocian” (no... that is not a typo) as I shamelessly listened to Muscle Museum by Muse. He came back later and told me he couldn’t save her, but I could fork over eight Gs for a replacement.
One does not simply walk into an “Apple Store” and get their iPod replaced. No. I had to call Kuwait. Not surprisingly, no one answered. And then, I called my dad. And he told me that we needed to think it over. Surely, he was grieving too. It could be no other reason, now, could it? COULD IT?
I got back home and life went on. I used my little brother’s iPod whenever I could manage to steal it. But it felt wrong just holding the damn thing. Not because it was my brother’s iPod, I steal shit from them all the time. Not because I used it to record the Asuras on Antacid. But because I felt old just holding it. It was something new. I wasn’t. I was twenty one. Fuck.
Hey it’s not the end of the world, right? At least I’m not older than some of you shit wankers (couldn’t resist).
Maybe I should just shut the fuck up and listen to Whatever by Godsmack on the stolen yet awesome iPod 4G.
Fuck you, bastards.
This is my blog.
