sales and vultures

I have stuff. I have lots and lots and lots of stuff. And now I have to get all my stuff out of my own apartment and into my new apartment. One that I do not even have yet.

I started going through all my stuff and realised that a lot of it is completely useless and unnecessary. I looked at my shirts, skirts, jeans, mugs, cups, lamps, books, bags – one by one. I didn’t even remember some of them. And I could not understand how I had managed to live in a tiny studio with all these items without even noticing they were there.

As I was sitting there, surrounded by piles and piles of things I realised I didn’t really live in my apartment. I sleep here. I have breakfast here. I have worked here. But I have never really lived here.

So. All my stuff. I hanged up dresses and shirts. I spread books and kitchenware on my table and non-hanging clothes over my bead, converted back to a sofa and lined up my shoes. And then I phoned my friends.

I sat down and watched people to rummage through my things. All the things I didn’t want anymore. I heard screams and laughs and oohs and aahs. I was watching a treasure hunt.

They left. But they didn’t leave much behind. In fact I had had to hold on to the few items I wanted to keep to myself. As they left they each wrote me a cheque. 10c for a t-shirt. A bargain.

Sales, summer sales, garage sales, promotion sales, all sales tell a lot about people. Some grab everything they can get their hands on to. Others look, judge, thing and weigh options. It is fun to watch. And it makes you mind fly – you imagine their homes, their cupboards, their lives – overflowing or organised?

Mine is a mess. But soon an empty mess. As if I do not know I have it, I definitely do not need it.