I wasn’t necessarily… not given a fresh box of crayons ever in my life. But that’s not what I remember. I remember the plastic gallon doggy bag filled with dirty used crayons. Where you could smell it from a mile away. The ones where you have to search harder than ever to find the one color you want, but when you find it, it’s to short so you have to rip the rapper off and now you’re holding a naked orange crayon with a multi colored tip because all the other crayons are making each and every other one more and more ugly.

Then there are the glorious, 64 pack, pristine Crayola crayons that you never let anyone else use because they where your special crayons. Even equipped with a sharpener in the back. Those where cool and where always a good feeling to use. But it was like you never wanted to use them because then they would become dull and gross and destroyed and you wouldn’t ever want to use them ever again. And they’ll just end right back up into the giant back of used crayons for the rest of the class to use.

There is probably some correlation between this and society. Like how we are perfect and society ruins us and just puts us into a giant gross bag to get even more gross and broken.