the autobiography of a vacuum cleaner

Tell me about yourself?

 I’m not so sure,

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about my place in the world—the space I occupy and the hands that hold me. Maybe it's because I feel like I'm about to be replaced. It feels as if my end is near, as though a new generation is about to take my place. They will make me disappear, make me obsolete. I require intimacy—no, I demand it. I must be held close to you. You guide me, and we move, We move over the smooth we move through the rough, we move, moved  as one , It's true that, often, I am not present in your mind. I also agree that many times I am just hiding in a corner, often behind closed doors. You have this saying, "Out of sight, out of mind," right? But I am here when called upon. I’m here for you, yet you only call upon me when everything feels like a mess. But it’s okay. I will help. Still, you only notice me, only remember me, when things are overwhelming. Yet, I show up. Then you pull me out of that corner, and we move as one, you hold me close, you are guiding me, lifting me above, again over the smooth through the rough,

Have you ever imagined what I carry inside of me? I carry parts of you, parts you desire to hide from the world. I am your chosen fortress. Because of me, your expectations of everything around you have shifted. I lift you up as you lift me up, I clear the debris hide it from your eyes. I have changed you—don’t you see? You see better because of me. That's how much I have influenced you. Yes, I am about to be replaced. The new ones are not like me. The new generation is so different from me. We are not alike. It’s as if they know exactly where they belong, confidently occupying every space they pass through. They cannot be hidden away in a corner. They never stop moving and so do you, you move among them, and you , you  don’t want to stop either. Worst of all, they remember everything. They never forget. They recall every place they’ve been and every action they’ve taken. And yet, you never hold them close like you hold me. You don’t take them by the hand or move with them as one. Why would you? They know their place; they know your place; they know the space.

I wonder, do you pay attention to them? Do you notice their movements, or do they drift into the background, just another blur in your sight, fading into the corners of your mind? Do they have a place in your life? And will you replace them soon, just like you replaced me?

Dear

I have heard what you said. Allow me to reply.

In a 25-square-meter space, you are the one I lean on when the mess of me accumulates, grasping hold of me, overbearing with its weight. You are the one I seek. I grab you from a corner, a corner that somehow fits you so well, as if it were made just for you, and only you have occupied it.

The intimacy you demand is an intimacy I am privileged to give. Holding you close, grasping you by the hand, has always seemed the only way to move through both the smooth and over the rough. And when we move, we move as one. I scream, you scream. I scream in silence, and you scream out loud. You scream to distract, to hide from the world the parts of me that I try to bury deep inside you.

The feeling you have—that somehow the end is near—is a feeling I share with you. I, too, will soon be replaced, just like you. the nature of being is to be demolished is to be obsolete, the space I occupy shall soon replace me , a new tenant will arrive , his memories will take a hold of the walls will wash away my traces and the ones that occupied it before me , 

In the nature of time then know you were not just a tool rather a witness , and the corner ayou occupied I a corner I shared with you , soon all things fade and so shall we ,

The owner of you ,