Everyone hoards something: clothes, trinkets, ex-boyfriends, pebbles from that one time you went to Blackpool Pleasure Beach. But what a revelation, a woman who runs a gaming website is a hoarder for video games?! How novel.
Going back to my Confession about my inability to finish video games, coupled with my shameful collection of Game Boy titles, it all boils down to one very easy explanation – I buy every single game I don’t already own. It’s impulsive and devastating to my bank account, but I won’t rest until I own every single game. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.
Now, I’m not saying that I have an entire house, completely lined with every single video game under the sun. Not by a long stretch. But it’s certainly true that I can’t walk into a store or troll through my Amazon wish list without picking SOMETHING up. Even something I know I’ll hate. Hell, I bought Kane & Lynch: Dog Days even though that game is balls. What does that say about me?!
It’s become some sort of pleasurable addiction for me now, as I look through the various shelves in CEX or GAME (UK fag here) to either come across an absolute bargain I don’t own yet. Whats more, I get an even greater surge of excitement if I make it along the length of the wall and have found nothing missing from my collection. That satisfaction of knowing I own every single game that this particular store has to offer me makes me feel oddly accomplished.
Another reason my collection is particularly large comes down to my absolute refusal to sell any of my games. Not even the shit ones. If its on my shelf, it will stay there and sit pretty amongst all my other titles. Which for someone who spends most of her time and money digging through sale bins and pre-owned shelves is apparently strange. Looking at it from a financial perspective though, why would I bother trading in the likes of Dante’s Inferno and Lost Odyssey when selling my own hair would gather more of a profit?
I’ve been told by friends of mine that this apparent addiction to recycling and re-homing video games should be a full circle with me letting go of titles once they have served their purpose. But I feel as though they are totally misunderstanding their purpose… As playable art.
When I envision my house in the future and I’m a billionaire in Sandbanks, I don’t see precious Ming vases or furniture older than your mom. I see rooms, libraries even, dedicated to showing off my impressive game collection. Organised and alphabetised to perfection, ready to impress anyone and everyone who comes into my home. The sheer mass of games on display will become my art collection and it shall be passed down to my children and their children’s children.
Hopefully, my collection and hoarding will surpass the appearance of mere addiction and materialistic desire and will tumble like a beautiful crescendo into the world of ‘legacy’. Just as I have books and only records inherited from my folks, as well as clothes and knick-knacks from older generations, one day my collection of strange PlayStation 1 games will sit on the shelf of my grand-grand-grand children as they stare at the livelihood their oldest quirky family member worked really hard to save up for them.
Hell, who knows, when we all live on different planets and video games are wired directly into our brains, maybe some stupid rich guy will want to buy my limited edition copy of WET and it will rock his world. What a time to be a alive that will be.
Not only this, I have piles and piles of strategy guides and pull-out maps from special edition games such as Mafia 2 and Red Dead Redemption just waiting to be lovingly framed on the wall to add that extra dimension to my collection. I have lines of Funko Pop Vinyls waiting to be organised and placed next to their game/film/TV show of origin to expand just how nerdy my collecting has become.
But do you want to know what upsets me most? My Steam collection. There sits hundreds of games that cannot be shelved amongst the rest of my collection. They must sit online, in digital download form, just waiting for me to acknowledge it instead of sitting pride of place on my mantelpiece.
Unfortunately, as I only get around to playing the same 3-6 games in rotation, the rest of my games go relatively untouched. And in those rare cases such as Crackdown 2 and Tom Clancy Rainbow Six Vegas 2 I haven’t even opened the box – they were purchased purely to fill a gap. And that’s how I know my hoarding has become a tad out of control – I would willingly go into a shop to buy the worse game in the world just so it is mine and I own it. It’s apparently about quantity rather than quality for me.
A fact of which I’m dreadfully ashamed about.