Capacity, 200GB. Or bust.
When people declare a doomsday deadline - of the kind that writers are not familiar with - those that corrupt the state of mental fragility with this concept of squashing a perceived compression of time, delays of the third kind are inevitable. I don’t think we just compromise the creativity of the mind, or the wonder of the page, but a singular harassment of the soul. And for this, we need bigger memory, capacity, and the kind that jumps out of the suit, to understand exactly the banter-mode tasks that is elicited when capacity is something that freaks everyone out.
When we turn our heads to full-on battlefield Asia, (talking to you mssrs of startups from 17-hour flight lands and beyond), we turn full attention to what we are contributing that will become good, progressive, and create the least burn rates. Sometimes, this allows for a coffee per day, and the highly fixated gender grid trials our innermost personal lives to become the least when we create the augment that is a real personality.
Do we attach ourselves to our identity per sé?
Yes. Anywhere we are in the world, that is the most important thing we stash in our 600-dollar leather wallets: our IDs, that name that tells people who we are. And correspond to the kind of life, mentally dossier-ed in the very kind of life we choose to live. And if people are actually made aware of it, the dossier becomes a heavy sealed envelope or something that that is merely a jar that gets passed around.
Do we have enough of content that makes us repeat what we once were, or become truer to the sort of person we are? Are we kept real with the trails we create, or the paths we brave ourselves to undertake? We just correlate to our environments, and become the kind of people who want what they want, and hopefully people who don’t like it, won’t need to suck it.
Or they can. (In the long run). Because, we have rights, and with enough of a knowledge, we are empowered by our intrinsic rights, not augment of belief, (which obviously you need to prove to death in courts of law, and pay hugely competent barristers for) - when you just need to be complacent in that you are yourself, and that is all you need.
When you’ve battled the demons within, like i guess i have, you become the sort of person you ought to become - not to anyone’s middlefiddlesticks but rather a slight chance that you could be the real deal that you had hoped for. I am not playing the dead romantic - although i have the complexion that has seen far better sunnier days in its current pallor - but the belief is that as long as we remedy the situation within, we contend with the perky pinks that will take care of blasting out your status faster than the fastest gunslinging social media thumbs in town.
Staying true to your needs, like the upgrade from the measly 50GBs to a more honest dedication to automatic up-loaders merits the 200GBs in the long run - (i mean, there is an “i told you so” in this somewhere), because that means you have the survival instincts of a cannibal, within the skins of a toad. That said, maybe toeing the deals are meant for another day, when you have gotten over the compound-psyche that had befallen you into becoming exactly that - a fixture to the dining table/ mantel/ media console/ bench (horrors), wherever it was that you were held, on a level above the normal ground.
Soak it in, and the vitamins in that potion of authentication, always will ring truer than applause.