Dodger
September 10th, 2006, 22:43
Have you ever imagined yourself being a Mobile Phone in LOS?
I know that sounds ridiculous...but just think about it for a minute. Imagine yourself sitting on a shiny shelf surrounded by thousands of other captive slaves at Big C. You gaze up through the glass enclosure only to see the bright smiling face of a young Thai boy who's got an eye on you. Next to him stands an elderly farang who seems to be equally impressed by your grace and your style. A moment later you are stuffed back into the box you came from, tossed in a plastic bag, and then on your why towards your destiny in life.
You then spend your early life bouncing around in the hip pocket of your new proud owner only to be exposed to a life that you never could have imagined. The conversations you hear are simply astounding. The pictures you capture for your new master would cause even the most liberal of Senior Mobiles to blush. After a while you get used to your role in life and even find yourself getting emotionally attached to your owner. He's cute...he cherishes you above all other possessions...he protects you with his life...never leaves home without you...and never goes to sleep without pushing a few buttons and whispering soft romantic sounding words in your plastic ears.
Then, without a moments notice, you are sold. The new master, whom you've now begun to love as your own, has decided to trade you in - in exchange for a few pieces of purple paper. You feel violated and alone. All those soft night time whispers meant nothing. You're now on the road to reality and it gets uglier with each passing year.
Your life then becomes a confusing spiral of new owners, who all, over time, just want to push your buttons until something better comes along. The knowledge you have gained over time could fill the Library of Congress. You yourself could write a book about the true nature of the Thai working boys and those farangs who visit hear from different planets. Your knowledge at this point has even surpassed that of the humans who own you and use you. You are irreplaceable to yourself, although become faded over time. Your value as a Mobile has all but diminished. The newer models are now on the shelves and their buttons work faster...they have more memory...do more things...and even look better in their brand new sleek and sexy covers.
Now I sit on a farm out in the middle of somewhere. It's so remote - it doesn't even have a name. I just sit on a shelf next to small Buddha statue and half empty bottle of whiskey, remembering the times when I was cherished. A time when my buttons were pushed a thousand times a day. A time when I could count on his warm breath whispering softly into my ears with meaning and compassion.
I wonder, if in my next life, I will return as a coffee pot.
I know that sounds ridiculous...but just think about it for a minute. Imagine yourself sitting on a shiny shelf surrounded by thousands of other captive slaves at Big C. You gaze up through the glass enclosure only to see the bright smiling face of a young Thai boy who's got an eye on you. Next to him stands an elderly farang who seems to be equally impressed by your grace and your style. A moment later you are stuffed back into the box you came from, tossed in a plastic bag, and then on your why towards your destiny in life.
You then spend your early life bouncing around in the hip pocket of your new proud owner only to be exposed to a life that you never could have imagined. The conversations you hear are simply astounding. The pictures you capture for your new master would cause even the most liberal of Senior Mobiles to blush. After a while you get used to your role in life and even find yourself getting emotionally attached to your owner. He's cute...he cherishes you above all other possessions...he protects you with his life...never leaves home without you...and never goes to sleep without pushing a few buttons and whispering soft romantic sounding words in your plastic ears.
Then, without a moments notice, you are sold. The new master, whom you've now begun to love as your own, has decided to trade you in - in exchange for a few pieces of purple paper. You feel violated and alone. All those soft night time whispers meant nothing. You're now on the road to reality and it gets uglier with each passing year.
Your life then becomes a confusing spiral of new owners, who all, over time, just want to push your buttons until something better comes along. The knowledge you have gained over time could fill the Library of Congress. You yourself could write a book about the true nature of the Thai working boys and those farangs who visit hear from different planets. Your knowledge at this point has even surpassed that of the humans who own you and use you. You are irreplaceable to yourself, although become faded over time. Your value as a Mobile has all but diminished. The newer models are now on the shelves and their buttons work faster...they have more memory...do more things...and even look better in their brand new sleek and sexy covers.
Now I sit on a farm out in the middle of somewhere. It's so remote - it doesn't even have a name. I just sit on a shelf next to small Buddha statue and half empty bottle of whiskey, remembering the times when I was cherished. A time when my buttons were pushed a thousand times a day. A time when I could count on his warm breath whispering softly into my ears with meaning and compassion.
I wonder, if in my next life, I will return as a coffee pot.