Time To Choose....
You know what I hate about having an epiphany? It comes out of the blue and slams you upside the head with the force of a dozen stampeding buffaloes spooked by a predator in the foilage.
Well, it started out innocently enough. Here I am, cleaning my room as the neatfreak I am, and I suddenly take a look around me. Star Wars toys that haven't seen an actual star war since a long,long time ago in a galaxy far, far awa. Autobots and Decepticons settling for an eternal staring contest over the next ruler of Cybertron. Bionicles that'll probably never see the light of day again from within their dusty Rubbermaid tomb. And there they were, those dozen buffaloes thundering my way in a panic because some Hyena couldn't keep his furry little mouth shut. BOOM! I'm crushed undfoot, or underhoof, whatever:
"Why do I even need this stuff?"
I love many of these toys. I really do. Some bear more personal attatchment then others, but in the long run, I don't know why I'd let myself spend more money on things I'll show affection to for 42 hours and then forget about their existence. But I need money. Why? So I can pursue my active loves: video games, Warhammer 40K, manga and art, and just the general investment in the future.
I was gonna stop buying Bionicles after the original story arc ended. Hasbro finally stopped cranking out Clone Troopers that drew me to the toy aisles in Wal-Mart on stormy days. Heck, I could probably cut myself off from buying all but the coolest of Transformer figures. But the question really is, am I gonna get rid of this all? I couldn't get rid of my Bionicles, no. Well, probably the playsets, but not the figures I have been collecting for the past 7 years of my life that I still tinker with to this day. But I look to my Transformers and unopened Star Wars figures, and I can't help but wonder how much they'd sell for if I put them up on Ebay.
Qouthe The Gman:
"Time to choose..."
You couldn't have said it any better, my suitcase wielding friend.
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