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I’d hate to begin a post by sounding like Ted Kaczynski, but I’m going to anyway when I say: I really hate technology.  Specifically the cell phone.

Technology allows you to cave in to your most selfish desires, one of which might be, for example, hypothetically, calling your ex.  And for someone like me who has only one ex, calling your former significant other can be particularly painful; the memories still feel fresh and you remember that it was the best (and worst) relationship you’ve ever had.

Self-control would be nice, but it’s a peculiar brand of self-indulgent masochism that makes me do this.  It’s just so easy.  You can roll through your contact list and find an overwhelming number of choices for this pleasure-spiked-with-pain feeling.  Of course, the cell phone is just the beginning. I could expound for hours on the ways in which the various social websites increase this phenomenon.

I, like many others of my generation, long for a bygone time I’ve never experienced.  If I’m going to end a relationship, I want to spend my time in the woods pining away for my lost love, not reliving it via awkward and forced conversations.  If I really want to be a masochist, I want to have to sit down and write a letter that will surely go unanswered.

But those days are gone.  I suppose for now I’ll have to rely on the cell phone to satisfy my masochistic urges.

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