empty.

I go walking in my sleep
to a place where the script doesn't meet my needs, so they change.
I heard my teacher say, "This is important. You'll need to know this. Maybe it would be wise to write this down or put it somewhere where you'll remember it."
And then he told a story about sushi and love. When I realized that his lines, straight from the script, were permanent I got all nostalgic about that time we went for bad sushi and I didn't like it - but I ate some of it anyway, and even took the rest of it home with me in a to-go container.
I never ate it later.
As the screenplay continues, line after line, I stop typing. Space, space, space, space I stop typing.



I'll need to know this.
I'll write it down.
I'll sabotage everything I ever thought I'd figured out.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
This is what happens when I don't eat.