just recently lost my phone. it was one of those walkman series of Sony Ericsson which was the culprit of my photos that i took and bragged about. it served for a good amount of two years i think, that's a first in the history of my phones since all of my phones has a life span of a year or less. not because they've gone defunct but they've gone to the hands of the cosmos. considering the number of times that i lose my phone, i guess i already got used to it so it was not a big deal for me to lose one. besides, most of them are the kind of mono chromatic phone so its cheap.
losing my phone had become a part of me. actually its not only with my phones, it with everything. i lose a lot of things. most of the time, i dont really know how i lose my stuffs, its like one moment i'm using it then next thing i know its gone like it was eaten by some creature from a parallel universe and defecated it into their twisted cosmos.
anguish normally accompanies me when i lose my stuff specially with my phone. thinking about the lost contacts is enough to produce stress that will make me consume a hefty amount of sugar and fat. somehow with this instance, there is no anguish, no cursing of the wretched lowlife who took my phone, it was just... ok i lost it, gotta get a new one. theres a weird feeling that there is a need for it to happen, that i have to let it go its like good break up, you feel a bit devastated about the lost but not heart-shattered, no mourning period and your ready for next shot.
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