To Aspire 5500

For those who are using their digital divice for more than 5 hours a day would not doubt to what I am about to say: they grow on you in the most intimate way. No matter it being a cell phone, an ipod, or a computer, malfunction often tends to feel like a betrayal. I am no exception to this default mentality of a computer dependener.

Ever since the first crash while I was writing my dissertation in 2006, I was acutely confronted with the dependency that I have over my laptop and its softwares. This is a relationship that I've developed since the age of 16 but was never being confessed upon.

The crash of my laptop recently refreshed my memory of my weakness. Moreover, with the worsened condition, I was put into a physical distress along with the mental anxiety when my beloved Acer Aspire 5500 stepping into its final countdown - showing signs of its delayed reactions and absent icons in the taskbar once minimalized.

The more I gave it time, or update its internals, the more I realize it's got a temperament of its own. When the buttons work and no delays occur, it is tame and tender, just like how we first met. But as the screens freeze and icons disappear, I realize that the facade of its temperate measures are merely windows of disguise to the deteriorating innards.

Now, pounding the keys of this 4-year-old portable computer that's been with me in the exotic and challenging days in Cardiff, the salty sea breeze in Bali, then the room full of lifetime memories in Taipei, I can only say that it's been great working with you. If only time permits, I wish we could have locked in an eternal love affair.