sad

Showroom supervisor was clearing up all the old stocks.
Threw all that couldn't be sold.
I looked at the rubbish bin.
I couldn't help but feel bad.
I started picking up a few pieces.

Friend: Hun, what are you doing?

I just smiled.

I began putting them together. Then I used one of the 'thrown' paper to write down a message ferociously.
Friend: Wah... what you writing lar..

I ignored him.
Then, I put the note into the little pouch that was thrown away, and kept it in my bag.
Friend: It's for '_', is it? (He knows about my little girlie fascination over the mysterious graphic designer.)

I laughed.
I read to him the message I had written in the paper.
They threw you away. They think you are no longer useful.
How do you not allow other people to throw you away?
How to regain your self worth when others have sentence your expiry?
How do you seek your dignity, after it's thrown away?

Friend: Wah, that's real SAD.

I looked at him. Coming from a guy who draws only skeletons, devils, vampires and destructive machines with the dark hateful black. I supposed it 's a compliment.