To The Ghost (should she exist) of My Beloved Boom Box,
A Final Word
In retrospect, if I could change one thing, altar one aspect of our relationship in any way. It would be only that I put more effort into rationally prioritizing the importance of you and the other objects essential for my musical entertainment. For what are the other objects without you, merely a compression of sound sequences stored in a device to categorize and initiate the playback of them (also know as an iPod) and a collection of coiled copper wires surrounded by a rubber casing used as a means of transporting the previously mentioned sound sequences to be conceived by my human ears via your speakers (also know as an auxiliary chord). But most importantly they are inanimate, soulless, unconscious objects. Just a meaningless wire and a half-inch thick piece of technology, a cool looking paper weight at best. Not like you, you have feelings, you have emotions, you can make conscious observations. But an outside observer may argue, or openly ponder with the intention of sparing my feelings as arguing with a man in a depressed and vulnerable state of self awareness may become psychologically hazardous to the defendant, “What makes your boom box so special? Why is it not an inanimate, soulless, unconscious object just like the iPod and the auxiliary cable?” Logically speaking, you are nothing more than a bigger paper-weight, but to me you're more than that. To me you're more than just a mass-produced means of profiting comprised of a cheaply composed collection of circuits, plastic, and whatever speakers are made out of. Their is a deeper attraction, a supernatural attraction, an attraction that can't be explained through a means of measurement or experimentation. And that is my biggest regret over the course of our relationship. The fact that I allowed myself to escape my rational way of thinking and give life to an object that has none. The fact that I am sitting at my computer typing a...
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