This is a bit of an odd personal post, not any Fandom related, so feel free to keep on trucking friend :]
How do I start this. I suppose, it should start with the simple fact that you should take your toys out of their boxes.
I've had boxes of action figures stuffed into various precarious locations all over every living space I've ever been in. Most of them still have the price stickers, for fear of damaging the packaging.
The boxes are dusty. Plastic unbended and the cardboard uncreased, and little faces of whatever beloved character inside stares out and has stared out at me for years.
This morning, in a fit of. Something. I grabbed my sharpest, shiniest scissors and tore into each and every action figure I still have like it was Christmas morning. I snapped the tape holding the boxes together, dusty and melted into the crevices. I ripped the bulky loud packaging out and snipped every little support twisty that surrounded each figure, dug out every little accessory, change of hands or prop, and bent all their joints around and twisted their heads and tilted their feet back and forth until they could stand on their own.
And then, for good measure, I recycled all the boxes.
And it was utterly freeing.
As I set up my newly freed collection in fun poses all around on every shelf, gleefully adjusting heads and hands so they were reacting to my secondary collection of books, I realized that for years, I had been denying myself real happiness.
I kept these things in packaging because I was prioritizing the next owner, the hypothetical future worth of something, over my own worth. And my own happiness.
I checked online about one of the action figures to see how others might have staged it. New, and in the box, the figure is worth a hundred and thirty bucks.
I think my joy is worth more than a hundred and thirty bucks.
Now, these figures will get dusty. I've set some up where I know sunlight comes in through the window. They'll get sunbleached, over the years, and lose their color. I live in a place with earthquakes, some might fall from the shelf and scratch or break. I have a dog, I have family with grabby hands, and I like to redecorate. These figures will only deteriorate and gather dust as time wears on.
But I'll be able to see them better. Out of the box, I can touch them and mess with their poses and make stop motion videos if I ever had the wish to. Outside the box I can have more fun than I ever did staring at them through preserved amber.
So, take the toys out of the boxes. Mess with them, break them. We don't live all that long, and saving things because you might be able to sell them later is dumb.
Take the toys out of the boxes.









