A Hard Drive

I've always been a computer addict or junkie, whatever you want to call it. I remember messing around on an ancient piece of equipment back when I stayed at Jalan Punai, when you still had to type win to get to Windows. 3.1.

That was quite epic.

This is actually the first laptop I've owned, though I did have a desktop before that. Many people don't exactly approve of the Sony Vaio, but it's served me well enough for the last three years or so, broken letter "E" aside. But then the hard disk died on me.

I was, of course, gutted. Losing all my music, including the stuff from Boyce Avenue and Norwegian Recycling was bone-crunchingly annoying, and right now my collection is still in the single digits. Piracy, yay.

I also lost every school assignment that I've compiled and worked on the past few years. Research papers, videos, presentations, designs, recordings, essays, articles, lists, spreadsheets, documents. Argh.

Photos are alright, I guess, with the advent of Facebook. Everything is online anyway, so they're easily replaced.

No real video games of note other than Team Fortress 2 and Football Manager 2010. The first has already been replaced, thankfully, but the latter's savegame is a lost cause. Alas, my heroics with Darlington will go to waste.

But thinking about everything that's gone now, I realize that among the comics and MP3's and movies and documents and viruses, I've lost something that is truly dear and irreplaceable to me. A long, long, time ago (or what seemed it), someone very special to me made me something. As far as I know, there's only the one (soft) copy of that thing.

Or there was.

Gone now, damneth.