"The one with the stolen phone..."

I find that as a writer, your writings tend to be affected by your emotions and mood. What we pen onto paper is often a figment of ourselves at that particular moment. With that, transcriptions become personal and its interpretation endowed subjectivity. Personalisation brings forth what Mozart and Beethoven embodied in tunes, as how Van Gogh, Picasso and Da Vinci immortalized on canvas.

I started today's morning to a simmer of tranquilty and a whisk of utter-consciousness, that God is Allmighty. Things happen for a reason, and for a good reason it does. As mere mortals we fail to see beyond what is in front of us, a trait by definition is human. However, by power of perceivance we seek solace in the realisation of others. We give out advice, and we receive in similar notion. We remind each others less fortunate than ourselves. Like a wheel, we have to realize the inevitability of our ups and downs composes many sizes - sometimes their gaps can be substantially far in between.

From how things are moving, I might be blogging to you guys thousands of kilometres away from home by next week. I've planned a rendezvous with Afzal in Sheffield beginning sometime next weekend. Of which the plan is to stay for at least a month. I don't wish to make public of my reasons why pertaining to the sensitivity of it, but suffice to say that it's nothing that alarming. Those closest would know, and the closest would understand.

Here's the dirt; last week I surrendered my phone for repair. I just could no longer bear treating it like a walkie-talkie; under my dearest Fifah's persistent request I decided to rectify what was discovered to be a problem to my phone's IC board. Long story cut short, now I'm left with an old Nokia phone which I traded with the repair shop, in anticipation of my cell repair's completion. So right now,  I'm humbly am reminded that, no matter how advanced our lives have evolved - we can still rely on old skool techies. I'm embracing the fact that technology has made us blatantly ignorant of the past. In the end, when high profile tech fails us, we look back to old stuff like these. *sigh*

I'm interested in its color though, I dubbed this phone as the 'bubblegum' phone. That string of polyphonic tones it screams really rings like an itch; it hurts but you just can't have enough of it. For these last few days I'm taken back to the times where the likes of monochrome display phones were fashion talks.

Oh, did I mention that my phone was stolen as well? Actually, more like MakTam's phone that I borrowed before I got the bubblegum phone. Which explains why I did not wish most of my friends Aidiladha (I'm sorry guys!) because I lost all their numbers on the stolen simcard in the stolen phone. It's a relief that I still have a copy of contacts on my soon-to-be-it's-been-ages-to-get-it-repaired phone.

See? Told ya I have the longest 4-days ever.

-JeP