Life of a Nokia 3230.

Built to be slim, a 1.2 Megapixels camera, and of course, the basic functions of messaging, calling, alarm, and so on. Also, the underused functions of me too, which I doubt the writer himself can name. Well, cut him some slack, ya? He just likes me because I look good; slim, red, silver.

So, as time passes, he got bored. (But there are times that he liked me again, but it didn't really last. It's like infactuations. LOL, for a phone?! That sounded wrong, nvm.) Then, from an overprotected treasure, I started to depreciate. Scratches began to surface. Scratches, more scratches. Then, bumps. He dropped me like no friggin' business, as if it wouldn't have hurt. More torture came, when I became so disfigured that he didn't care anymore.

But I was always there for him, when he needed me for just a simple telephone call, or a message to a friend to cancel an appointment which he had agreed to a week ago, for something dumb.

But just why can't he see?

There is something there, being there for him, unconditionally, while he looks at other phones. I don't mind him looking, I just don't wish him to be cheated, just want to show him that the world is much prettier, if he chooses to not look at the bad points, but the good.

But well, I doubt I matter to him anymore. I asked myself...


"Why bother about someone... who doesn't even bother about you?"