The fact that I do not have a cellphone seems strange to most people. But seriously, I don’t have one. I lost my mobile device a year ago, and I have no plan of getting a replacement.
Before that incident, I actually have been planning to throw it away but guilt, well, the awareness that I would be wasting a resource, it was, in some way, hunting my conscience. Luckily, I was saved by contingency.
If you ask me, I actually like this life without a mobile phone. For instance, I do not receive nonsense messages about the taste of a stupid pancake or useless quotes about unrequited love. I am not obliged to pick it up should anyone decide to give me a ring, or reply to inquiries sent out of the blue. I also like the invisibility it provides me, as sometimes, I don’t want to be found.
I actually revel in its absence. I like the way I set time for an appointment, scribble the info on my planner or piece of paper, move ahead of the schedule, and be there.
Without the device, conversations in my life, I noticed, are more meaningful and intimate. It is never instant. Human connections are more interpersonal and satisfying. You see people, their gestures, peculiarities, and mannerisms. Hell, sometimes you even realized that upon closer inspection, they are beautiful.
So, whenever anyone tell me to get one, a cellphone, I say no. I am okay with this kind of life: authentic and genuine. And, of course, less suffocating. Actually, it’s better.