Moving House

It's a strange things, this new computer. It needs breaking in. It's the first time in a long while that I have a full keyboard, numpad and all. And dutch qwerty. I'm used to swiss qwertz. Changed from OSX to Linux Mint 14 (latest version that seems to work with my amd radeon graphic card). From 13” to 15”. So much change so fast. It's hard to keep up.

I've had my MacBook for five-and-a-half years. Still 10.5. One of the last models sold, a month before the change to 10.6. Lucky me.

It had been my door to the endless Internet for years. All my texts. It had contained more information in it's small frame than any other part of my life. It had been vibrant, its existence an integral part of mine. An extension of my self, a part of who I was. But as the beer seeped through its keyboard, and the screen went out with a *pop*, it became a simple object, devoid of purpose.

I knew it was over. There was nothing I could do. The battery was fully charged, and the screen had gone black. I couldn't even turn the fucker off in a last ditch effort to save him. It was too late. And suddenly, inevitably, everything that I had invested in it disappeared. The bond I had forged with that machine got cut off violently, leaving only a mirror image of the aluminum husk that now lay before me.

For the 20-so hours without a PC, a strange feeling came over me. The emptiness started filling with things pure and beautiful. A breath of truth blew away clouds of static, and it seemed I was becoming the world again, the real world. But it couldn't last.

I bought a new laptop, windows pre-install because I'm lazy, and spent the next one-two hours setting up Linux for the first time. And now I'm back were I don't belong. And I like it.