The Garbage Collector

Yes, that is what my mother called me just now. Guess why? You must know the reason. I was a very sentimental person (or I may say myself, as perception of others might as well differ) and I kept everything that means to me. My mother says that I inherited this habit from my father, which I thought to be extremely true. There is one case back then, about two years ago (if my memory serves me right) when I gave some old newspaper that my father kept under the bed to my uncle, who needed them in his workshop. By the time he comes home, he was totally outraged by my act. After a few lectures, he started his motorcycles and ride straight to the workshop. It was then come into my account that the newspapers were about agricultural development, R and D, the biotechnological advancement and about breeding new generation of livestock. It was his major interest, I might say. My father could be depicted as one character in the video game ‘Harvest Moon’, minus the swords and the monsters they created in the NDS version. Oh, back to my story. I used to keep all those so-called ‘garbage’ for a few years, until my mother discovered them and used her veto authority to throw them away. The latest one is my wallet, given by my ex girlfriend during my 18^th birthday last year. The Polo wallet was already broken, inside out, and there’s no way to keep using it without having me risking my bank cards and important name cards being dropped all along the way. My father offered me his Larrie wallet, which I had given him last year for Hari Raya, and I can’t help but to accept that. It was a shame for me, but still I have to accept. This time I have tried to put away my ego and just be as truthful as possible. So that’s me. I collect garbage. I admit it, I was a sentimental person. One of my collections was a receipt from the Secret Recipe Times Square, which is the first and the last time I shared a New York Cheese Cake with my ex. Another one is the RapidKL bus ticket that I used during the first time I go out with my girlfriend. The next thing is an official sim card of Nokia N-Gage, my first phone that I got after PMR. It (the phone) was stolen when I was at the hostel when I was in form 4. What else… Let me see my collection… Oh, you should like this one. It was my first reload card, with the picture of Siti Nurhaliza. It was about four years ago, if I was not mistaken. Well, that’s all I could mention, for everything else is far too personal. But believe me, you will be amazed by those collection of my once you’ve seen it for yourself. By the way, my mother might call it all as ‘garbage’, but I valued those things as a very precious memory, inscribed in physical. I was currently making an archive of my phone messages which will indicate how my life flows for another few years. I’m one sentimental person, and I’m proud of it.