Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Legos as Story

For the first time ever, I saw Legos in a Chinese toy store today. The genuine deal, not the ubiquitous shitty copies. The guy with the trophy (from Minifigures, series 4) was twenty-two yuan, and the clown (series 5) was twenty-nine, expensive as hell for toys, but I couldn't resist. I was geeking out, remembering all the stories I'd told myself when alone with these toys. I couldn't shut up while looking at all the new Legos that had come out since the last time I'd seen them, and afterward, while carrying around the two I'd gotten, I remembered taking one of my guys, just one, to school in sixth grade. Not to play with but to remind myself that I'd get to return to playing at the end of the day, after getting the contents of my desk dumped onto the floor and generally being fucked with. All the while thinking of what the person in my pocket would think if he had to occupy the inside of my desk, a space covered in darkness when everybody was gone.

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