They were just made out of folder cut-outs. They were lifeless. They got easily gone old. They were easily affected by moists and heat. They had been with me for more than eight years. And now I feel their pain of old age.
I don’t know if this is still right. I feel sad. They had to be replaced. They had to be rested. With pain, I decided to put them out of my diorama. I don’t intend to say that they were no longer part of my things, my hobby. But it’s just that they were out of place. They had to give way to new crafts that can sustain the imaginary needs of my imaginary city. I thanked them. I’d even talked to them. I think they were crying. For joy maybe after less than a decade? Or maybe we feel the same way that parting is near. I had already replaced them with new crafts some weeks ago. But when I look at my old ones, I feel like I wanted to get them back in their places. I am torned. I don’t want to see them. I never taught that these folder cut-outs would make me feel this way. Yes, this is me. I’m insane.
I used to crumple my old crafts whenever I replaced them with new ones. But these six old pieces were different. They were part of the first 10 structures that I made when I was a high school student. I can’t smash them. I can’t tear them. I don’t know where to put these old crafts. My youngest brother asked me if he could have them. I gave him the old six pieces. And I believe he put them in a place where I could not see them easily, place where they were safe and preserved.