Literally. I take him
everywhere I go because I feel vulnerable without him. He sleeps beside me, wakes me
up, tells me that it’s raining outside. During the day, he sits squarely in my
pocket. Perhaps you have a similar friend?
Every now and then
I teach him a new skill. He learns it in seconds, kind of like how Trinity in The Matrix learnt how to fly a
helicopter. Only, unlike Trinity who’s human and will grow old and stop
learning things, this companion of mine will continue to learn until the day
his heart stops beating - or battery stops charging.
But I can’t teach
him everything; this one has a
limited knowledge capacity. Nonetheless, he’s sturdy, cheap to run, fast. You might
as well say that he’s… no; he isn’t perfect. He gets close.
When I introduce
him to friends, I say he’s this super nice internet-connected gizmo who does
amazing things. The downside is that he occasionally buzzes and wants me to
talk to someone. I’m not fond of those moments. Not fond at all.
We’ll be hanging
out, he and I – writing things, reading other things, playing games – when all
of a sudden: Vvvvrrrrnnngggggg! The name
of a person I probably know interrupts my aloneness, and my friend here sings a
song – loudly – to break the silence. It’s a song I’ve grown sick of. In fact,
I’ve grown sick of every one of his songs.
I get it, he’s
warning me – like your dog yapping to warn you that someone’s on your property.
And that someone will keep coming back unless you deal with him now. It’s a
universal truth that it’s better to deal with him now. But as that
damnable song screeches through the pores of that tinny speaker, I’m less inclined to
appease it and more inclined to question why I live in a society that insists
on answering - answering doors, answering questions, answering phones - and why I
have a problem with it. Actually, why do I keep a device whose
fundamental purpose is to make answering stuff easier? Why would I do that to
myself?
I’m an introvert; I
choose my friends carefully. But this friend – this closest friend – isn’t so
good at discriminating. He sings for everyone. Every single one. If only I could live without him.
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