I said, what is the difference between a toy and a toy? The building blocks have no place to go to the top, only waiting to be knocked down and start over again; a piece of the puzzle can easily disappear and never be found again; the color of the dolls has faded so much, and they are thrown aside with broken hands and feet. "Puzzle" is more of a euphemism. It's more appropriate to call "adaptive" toys. It helps little ones to accept some common axioms: collapse is faster than construction, incompleteness is faster than completion, forgetting than caring Come quickly.
Kobayashi said, not so much. Your shabby little brown bear has not been kept by you until now, and you still have to hold it in your hand when you get engaged. Old things are good, they have no ambitions for the future.
I said, what did you do when you were a kid? How could there be nothing left?
Kobayashi: The only thing I can remember is the battery. When I was a kid, the batteries were a bit thicker than today's, and they were carried in flashlights or portable cassette players, and they brought light and sound everywhere.
Me: What's so fun about batteries?
Kobayashi: There are many doubts about the battery. For example, what kind of batteries should be considered waste batteries? From the perspective of energy attenuation, batteries are very similar to people. People age continuously from birth, and batteries keep getting weaker from the moment they are put into use. But there is a clear line between life and death. He stopped breathing, and the temperature faded. Although the body could stay for a while, it would eventually rot and deteriorate. In the end, it lost its shape and smell, and returned to where it came from. But that's not the case with batteries. No matter how old the battery is, there is still a trace of electricity in it. Just like a towel that can't be wrung out no matter what, some electricity is like a faint light blue little soul, trapped uselessly in the battery's worn-out body. When I was a kid, I used to hold used batteries in my hand, hoping that the temperature of my palm would be transferred to the battery. Have you ever tried taking apart an alarm clock or radio?
Me: The radio has naturally been disassembled.
Kobayashi: I also dismantled the alarm clock and radio. But they are all curable. Replaced parts or cleaned up the dust and put them back together and they're healthy again. But the battery can't do it. They are not only abandoned, but incurable. When you cut the plastic skin on the outside of the battery with a knife, your heart is clear that this skin will always be cut open, and it has no self-healing or regeneration ability. Inside the plastic skin is a sticky, gray-black substance, the ingredients of which I can't name yet, but they're the ones that keep bringing light and sound. At the end, only a straight carbon rod remains. The carbon rods, freshly stripped from the battery, seemed very abrupt for a while. When the battery is alive, people cannot see it. Now it can only face the world alone. But the world doesn't need it anymore. There is no place for it. What can a naked carbon rod do?
Me: When you can draw and write with chalk on the floor and wall, right?
Kobayashi: Yes, if it has to be useful. It starts to wear out and is quickly disliked for blackened fingers. When I was a kid, I deliberately kept a few carbon rods that weren't worn out. After all, do not know where to go. Have you ever deliberately placed the two stages of a battery between your index finger and thumb and imagined yourself glowing a soft orange from it?
Me: Not really.
Kobayashi: I have never done a new battery once. Because I am afraid of wasting the energy that is not much in it. But every time I get used batteries, I put them between my index finger and thumb before taking them apart, imagining the last bit of it crawling up to my fingertips like people waiting to be rescued, and I'm in I said to them in my heart, come on, I will take you to continue to give light and sound in this world, it does not matter. Only in this way, when the battery is opened, it will feel that it is a body without regrets. Sometimes I get very depressed, and I think about the little electric charges that have accumulated on me, and I feel a little courageous again, because I promise to carry them on.
Me: Because of this, you have to cut the battery, right? Charges cannot be discarded trapped.
Kobayashi: Mainly because of this. It's also because I really don't want to give up on that electrode rod. It used to be a deep and busy passage. Now this channel is going to be closed. Always feel like it should be salvaged.
Me: Why do you suddenly think of this today?
Kobayashi: Because when I was packing my things yesterday, I found a radio I used a long time ago in the corner. I hesitated for a long time when I wanted to open the battery box. I was afraid that when I opened it, I found that two batteries had been forgotten and had rotted and deteriorated.
Me: Did you open it later?
Kobayashi: Open. It's empty inside. This is relieved.
Me: Put two new batteries in one day and see if the radio still works.
Kobayashi: Use as little battery as you can. Locking two batteries in a tight area isn't a very pleasant experience either. The world is so big that it has to draw light and sound from two small batteries. I don't like the logic in it.
Me: Before I got married, I was always curious about what the two people who got married were going to talk about together. I got the marriage certificate the day before yesterday morning. This was the topic of conversation in the afternoon.
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