I'm gonna sell my childhood. Will everyone treat the figures with the love that I had? Will they make sure their thumbs don't break off? Will you make sure that you watch out for the heart? Will you keep it safe? Will you know what it needs and give it the watering and care and devotion that I couldn't? Because my memories will end up in an old swimming pool or on some hipster's desk. And it'll be a few bucks in my pocket. But oh, the long gone days of pillow mountains and sleeping bag lakes. I was always the bad guys. And they always all died. Valiantly. They gave their lives to the cause of evil they believed in, but they were the best kind of bad guys. The ones that thought they were right. Will you make sure that when they feel lonely and lost and want life to move faster, will you stop your busy day and get off your fucking ass and say what you feel or will you let the toys collect dust? My Christmases and birthdays and hard worked for castles and slime pits are going to the highest bidder.

Photo - S
Words - S