Beep Beep
Beep Beep
Beepity-beep, went my little silver friend. It was about 23:09pm on an ominously unhappening Monday night. I looked at my slick aerodynamic cell phone as it whirred and illuminated into a friendly tune, notifying me that somebody out there was thinking of me – somebody cared…
I hopped up in anticipation. Who could it be, I thought? A long-lost friend from da islands? An ex-suitor whose boxers I had hoped would be infested by flesh-eating mites a few weeks prior? Perhaps, even, my salmon-shirt-wearing true love trying to make contact just one last time before he realized that he was, in fact, batting for the other team? To my dismay it was my trailer-trash ex-boyfriend wishing me a “pillow of happy thoughts to create a flurry of wonderful dreams”. Yep, I was really attracted to the poet in him. They sure teach dem good in da caravan lands. Whatever, who on earth speaks like that?! Anyway back to the track, Jack…
What happened to the days where people actually s-p-o-k-e to each other instead of cyber signing thoughts and feeling through smses? Nowadays human existence depends on the size of your cell phone, the ease with which you convey those thoughts and feelings in one shifty hand manouvre and how fast you can do it. Um, the message that is.
Instead of long, dramatic monologues of love, all that is left is a few cold vowels. Where is the love? I ask. Where is the good-loving? Kaching. Gurgle. Shizam. Food for thoughts. Peanuts for monkeys. Peace Out.