The iPhone I purchased last week has become an omniscient pet living in my pocket. I take very good care of it. I feed it power every couple of days, and clean it's soft outter shell when it gets dirty. I do not place it in my pocket with Mr. key chain, a sharp and dangerous enemy. And yet as I get closer and closer to my iPhone, I start to feel it pushing me away, as if it is looking for a more loving owner. It's up to me to become technologically fluent in order to retain my iPhone's love.
Like any one-sided relationship, I am in awe of the raw power and potential that my iPhone possesses. I am also scared of it. With each downloaded app, I fall further and further into it's debt. Where do the possibilities end? I have gazed upon the most beautiful creature on Earth, and my eyes have been locked into place for eternity. Is anything else worth seeing? My actions are subconscious; I am powerless to stop my hands from gliding over it's smooth, glistening screen.
And yet I abuse my iPhone in a different way. This concoction of metals and binary codes has power beyond what I am capable of controlling, and because of this I am forced to rein in it's power. It is with simple pleasures such as Words With Friends and simple texting that I hold my iPhone close to me. Like a mother keeping her adolescent daughter close to her, I grasp at the similarities that keep my iPhone from turning its back on me. My fear is that one day I will weight it down with the burden of unused applications and unnecessary data. Not that it cannot handle excess; Rather, I fear that it will instead just become bored. It is at this point that some difficult decisions will need to be made, the ones that each living individual dreads. But until that day, I will keep my iPhone safe and warm, together and unscratched, and enjoy every moment of our time together.
