I have thought about throwing my phone into the ocean.
Well, first I thought about throwing it off a tall building. I'd really like to see it smash into many pieces and bits. I'd smile at the spray of sparkly glass. But I don't want to hurt anyone. Or clean up the mess. Let's be practical, here.
So, I'd like to throw my phone into the ocean.
Then I thought, well, maybe I should just throw it under a friend's couch and not tell them. With my busy-ness, I can't get to my friends' houses often. My phone would be stuck there. I would, by default, be left without it for days or weeks just out of inconvenience of retrieving it.
But I would know. It would call to me. I would still be a prisoner of its possibilities. And what would happen? Eventually, eventually, I would fold.
Good and maybe bad, the ocean is a more permanent solution... to what problem, I know I haven't said. It's how the thing seems to complicate my life. It's a feeling.
Of course, the smarter thing to do would be to sell it. But then I would be robbed of the satisfaction of the wind up, the chuck, the arc as it flew threw the static-y air... the sleek little thing would probably just slip into the ocean without making a splash. And I would be free.
That's worth a couple hundred bucks.