When I was six, papa got a new Motorola at an exorbitant price, to which I proudly told him:
“I know how we can buy phones at cheaper prices!”
“Just wait for newer phones to come out and then buy the older phones!”
Papa then scoffed at my
“Why would you want to use outdated things? Why don’t you just study hard and earn more money so that you can buy whichever phone you like and advance with technology?”
Countless times in recent years, I have found myself wanting to abandon the iPhone 4S for my old Nokia 3100. It is the phone that has remained ever so faithful to me ever since I was in Primary 5, and the phone I could turn to whenever those lousy Sony Ericssons died on me before my two-year contracts were up throughout my secondary school years. Mind you, I even had a dream about it.
Truth is, I can’t keep up with the advancement in technology. I miss the time when people would spend time crafting their texts to make every character count so that they needn’t waste another five cents. I miss the time when instead of chatting over Whatsapp, people met up to catch up. I miss having real people to talk to face to face. I miss having real friends – the meaty, not pixellated version.
I hate social media.
And I hate myself for succumbing to it.