Death to an iPhone 264 words published on September 30, 2021.
On a personal note, yesterday I destroyed my last iPhone.
I threw it against the ground in a fit of rage. Maximal down force. It shattered into a million pieces and scattered across the ground. The back glass simply turned to dust; pure pulvis. It grazed my ankle on its way down catching some skin and drawing blood. Yet, I was not the wounded one.
Next, I took out the hammer and flathead. Feeling like a cold-blooded killer, I drove the driver deep within it’s hollow depths. First, I struck the batteries, but was disappointed. All that I was rewarded with was a quick spark, left only with two lame hot pouches. Not to be deterred, I tore off the edges, cracked each chip, and mangled the whole damn thing. Eyes widening with each powerful swing.
When I was done, I left it out. It lied there, bare and naked in the streets for all to see. A skeleton encased in expensive minerals, expertly crafted and now dutifully destroyed.
As it cooled off, I did the same.
There will not be another.
If I sound irrational, angry, and bit jaded, it’s because I am. You made me like this. For years of broken promises and pandering, I’ve watched the world reel. We’ve been as broken as the carcass of my old friend. But I heal and it will not. It’s life has drained and been drained, now completely.
This has been a long time coming. My accounts will be canceled, my music will be migrated, my dongles donated, and my life will go on.