Where All Memories Go

I just closed it and shelved it. Or rather, I put in on a table with some vague idea on my mind that I’d probably find another place for it. What’s it? My MacBook.

Where All Memories Go

I’m not the most organized person on this planet, I have magazines piled everywhere and chargers’ wires are coiling in the corners and my phone seems to hate me and hide in the farthest nook possible. So, I guess I could have lost an elephant in my sitting room. Really, I think they should invent something so that a phone could answer your call. I mean, when you’re “kitty-kitting” it. But they invented the fitness wristband instead, of all things!

And when doing the apartment, I would just scoop my old MacBook with everything else and shove it away onto the window sill or into the armchair. It’s not that it weights half a ton, is it? Every time I caught a glimpse of my old MacBook, I promised, I’d do something about it. I had trusted the laptop with my photos, talks and shopping. And thoughts. I had trusted it with pieces of my life caught in time: a glimpse here, a snap there. And I completely forgot it.

So sad. I mean, it’s well behind the date and has scrapes and rubs. And I’ve lost the Lightning cable somewhere. But. But. My gran got the pictures album, my mom got the pile of DVDs and, I believe, a card box of VHS’s stacked somewhere in the attic. (Where you could lose an elephant and a tiger, by the way.) I’ve got an account in iTunes and iCloud. And this old MacBook. It’s not like I’m going to pass it on to my grandkids. They’ll have had brain implants by the time I’ll leave this world.

But that’s not the point. My point is: do you give away more than an old laptop? Or do I just imagine things?



Credit image: wallpapercave.com/imac-wallpapers


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