I'm crying over a god damn cell phone. A FUCKING cell phone. I never thought in a million years I would be, but when you think about it, it has purpose.
You always hear adults saying 'oh them teenagers always on their cell phones," and then you turn around and that's what their doing. Or the whole "You're phone is always glued to your hand," and conveniently enough it isn't in your hand.
Yet we all are a little guilty and we all rely on them. Every contact, every picture, every memory. God the memories. The alarm clocks, notifications, games, the fun times with it and the cracks. Oh the beauty.
Yet here I am. A phone with a virus inside. Great. I'm uber excited.
It still amazes me that I'm crying, over a cell phone.
