the sofa was not invited
today was extra painful. i just wrote this piece in my notebook. you can read it, if you'd like. it's about a lot of things, and it's about a sofa.
a sofa moved into my home univited. it did not have my consent to be there (i did not want, or ask for it). its presence was uncomfortable; undesirable; unpleasant. but, i couldn't say a thing, or, i would hurt feelings. i always think, of how feelings could be hurt. my feelings weren't considered, when the sofa appeared. it was just, there. (i don't recall there being any warning) an ugly, stained sofa (used) some of the fabric was torn. the threads – like wounds exposing the inside, artificial, fibres, (that we aren't meant to see).
like a person,
their skin
sliced open
a little too
deep
and you must
look away
as it
feels wrong
to see;
an invasion
of privacy
their vulnerable
insides
splayed
revealed
grotesquely
laid bare.
(a reminder
of our own
mortality)a displeasing shape– it took up so much space. it overtook the living room. (the place you're meant to live.) each time i entered my home each time i passed through the front door the sofa, would greet me. (it got under my skin) the sofa; the sofa; the sofa. the sofa, i didn't ask for, want, or consent to. the sofa, in my home, the home i so thoughtfully curate, to be a place of beauty, balance, peace. (where i feel sometimes a little more safe.) the one that brought the sofa home is fragile, sensitive, reactive. filling the space, made them feel safe. so i had to protect them, (and myself). i lived with the sofa. (silent) in my discomfort.
\((i'msofuckingsickofsilentinvisiblepainiwanttoscreamand burneverything)\)
but, they've left now, the one that brought the sofa home. i no longer need to keep; tolerate; accept; the many objects, they filed the house with, to comfort themselves. (as the opposite occurred for me.) i've been getting rid of so much, all the items i didn't ask for, want, or consent to, that appeared in my home. still, the sofa persists. i have tried to give it away, but nobody wants it. (why would they?)
i realised, today that there's a waste collection on the verges of the streets where i live. anything we don't want, we can place on the verge, and it will be taken away.
\((dontyouwishyoucoulddothatwithfeelings?)\)
but, i think, i missed the date. i didn't pay attention. i recall thinking– that date is so far in the future. i will be rid of it by then, i am sure. i was wrong, it's still here (and it seems to be bigger). it is very heavy i can't move it i need help. imagine, if i get help to move it to be collected and then it never is? if i put it out tomorrow, it could just sit, on the street, abandoned. becoming more, and more, disgusting. the rain will soak it, mold will grow, fallen leaves, and debris will travel through the wind, and get stuck, and rot, in the crevices. (the sofa will become a home, for waste, and death.) now, i realise the date that seemed so far away, (intangibly distant) came much faster than i could feel. i've been burdened by worries (even heavier than the sofa). as i've tried to survive, i've lost track of time. how will i ever be rid of the sofa? it takes up so much space. it is so unappealing. it dominates the room. when i try, to make everything beautiful, it reminds me, of all that is ugly. desperately, i have wanted this sofa gone. since the day it moved in (uninvited). but, it won't leave. "it fills a space, at least" people say, when i mention my fervent distaste for it.
\(iwouldratherthatspaceentirelyempty\)
than filled with something i did not want, ask for, or consent to. the sofa merely appeared with no consideration for anyone else. i think, i consider others– their feelings; comfort; behaviours; needs; reactions; wellbeing; experiences; realities; perceptions; beliefs; context; patterns; history; sensitivities; insecurities; difficulties; present; anxieties; proclivities; desires; fears; what makes them feel safe, and any impact, i may have much more than most. (or at least more than most people i am around, consider anyone, but, themselves.) i would never bring a sofa an ugly, stained, torn, sofa, with a displeasing shape a heaviness that dominates the space (uninvited) into a home. (without asking without checking without consent.)
