I bought the phone off of ebay. It was cheap, and I mean real cheap, especially for an iphone like that. The guy said that he wanted to get rid of it. He must have done that in a rush, because when it got to me, nothing was deleted. All of his contacts were there, all of his pictures, all of his apps. I ain’t a nosey person, but come on. It was like this stranger had just handed me a book of his life. I had to read it.
I started by just scrolling through the contacts. Nothing unusual. He had his mom, his friends and his boss, just like we all do. But then I got to the pictures. There were around 400 hundred and all of them were of his and this girl. She was beautiful, amazingly so. She was a magazine cover but she did not need all the photoshop. Then I noticed, in every picture they were wearing the same exact thing, and, if you scowled like it was a movie, her smile slowly faded. The last picture was actually a video. The man who had sold me the phone just looked straight into the camera. For thirty seconds he said nothing, just blinked, afterwards, he said ‘Sorry.’ He had been crying. Next the text messages. I scrolled through the first couple conversations were just emoji riddled things about the normal stuff, work, beer and weekends. But then, I get to this conversation he had with some girl, whose contact was Her. “Hey” He started. “Hey.” She texted back exactly 11 minutes later. “Just making sure you gave me the right number.” He said. “Romantic.” She responded. I am assuming that is sarcastic. “You’d be surprised.” “I like surprises.” They continue on with this flirty banter until finally he gets the courage and says “dinner?” She says that she guesses she is not busy tomorrow night. “When should I pick you up.” “7.” “Are you okay with Italian.” “Yeah.” Romance in the modern age really is a great thing. They go to dinner, and since I can tell when the messages and pictures were sent they take the 400 pictures in that one night. The next morning he says “You alright? You left my apartment so soon.” That message was seen at 10:58 am. There is no response. Later that same night he messages “Microwave food for me tonight. Not as good as Italian. Not as good as food with you.” Seen 8:14 pm. The next morning he tries, “So do you want to meet up again?” Seen at 9:37am. Then, at 11:42 am, she texts back, “you are not good at taking hints. are you?” “What did I do wrong?” His response is both immediate and desperate. Seen at 11:45 am. He waits only ten minutes and then responds with “?” but still, she does not respond. He waits two hours and then says “Listen, I had a great time last night. Sorry if you didn’t. Want to try again?” He waits another day and then says “Really? No response?” He is mad now, and texting very frequently. “I at least deserve a response.” “I thought you were better than this.” “Thought you were different. My mistake.” “Yow know I can see that you have read these, right?” “Why are you ignoring me?” “Why did you even say yes when I asked.” “I did not want a one night stand. I wanted you.” Then, “I am coming over.” He says nothing for four days, and when he does he sends a video. A man cries and looks into the camera. “Sorry.”
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It was what everyone had always dreamed of. Well, almost everyone. For everyone to access the same network, the same information, the same world, no matter where. To be able to skip the laborious process of making the trip to the library every time one needed to verify one fact or another. The future of information. A highway for information, gleaming, shiny, and new, holding more and more cars every minute of every day. It stretched wherever one wanted to go, and back again. But this glorious network of information only claimed to be perfect. As time went on, the inevitable effects of the environment took its toll on this highway. There were drawbacks and pitfalls for every hopeful idea, a con for every pro. Vicious viruses, meddlesome malware, incorrect information, lurking around every corner, behind every flashy, vivacious advertisement. We flocked to this bumpy highway full of information nonetheless, sure we would not be the victims of its many potholes. As the cars around us fell into the ever-widening, invisible cracks, we cruised on smoothly, not a care in the world. It’s only a matter of time before our own car collapses, but until then our wheels continue to turn, picking up little pebbles and stones, churning them around for a bit, and then dropping them elsewhere. Our tires pound the pavement, and we search for a construction crew to recover the damage the many other cars have done to this once-perfect highway. But no such crew is in sight. And as you gaze out your window for the first time, marveling at the sight of the highway, you remember what it once was. Constructed and then left to crumble piece by piece, before it is no longer safe for travel without fear of damage to either the car, the passenger, or both. Thus ends the life of the highway, and only the highway knows when this end may near.
Empathy: (noun)
The ability to understand and share the feelings of another. I’m including this definition because I’m not sure many of us know what it is. I mean, sure, we understand the gist of the word, but the idea and the application of the word are very, very different concepts than the word itself. We, as a society, know how to pronounce and define, but not how to perform and demonstrate this known, yet strange concept of empathy. Empathy is one of the essential factors in the equation of compassion, an equation that defines how we live. If empathy is removed from the formula, or misapplied, the entire equation warps, and our lives are greatly impacted. And, over time, empathy has been removed, or at the very least, our standards for empathy have been lowered exponentially. We see it every day: when someone drops their books in the hallway and nearly everyone just skirts around the victim, throwing them a sideways glance, slightly embarrassed for them, though at the same time glad it wasn’t them, and mildly irritated for the inconvenience this victim of pure luck has caused them, the passerby. Or when a pedestrian attempts to cross the road, yet no car is willing to pause their precious schedule for a mere minute in order to let the pedestrian pass. Empathy is an essential part of life, but we choose to exclude that from our lives, focusing on ourselves and our own lives, excluding others, save for when we find them useful. If we cannot find it in ourselves to reach out to others even when it doesn’t benefit us, we cannot progress as a society. Ever. |
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