The Incident In The Kitchen

I stood in the corner of the kitchen by myself at 2:30AM, scooping out some rice from the rice cooker and patting it onto a seaweed sheet. I cut up some pieces of meat into little squares and I did the same with some cucumbers. I began to project in and out of my body, in some rhythm. I was too tired to be scared that I was, again projecting unwillingly. I crushed some chips and threw it on top of all of that.

I stood there by myself, chewing a piece of cold bone, not caring about how unhealthy I was being. I thought about my mother again. She stopped being a mother to me after the divorce. That's when I started stealing, food, money, stuff I could sell so I can get money. I was saving up for some reason. I can't remember why.

I thought about how I was never good enough for her no matter how hard I've tried. I sold a lot of my stuff, and I put everything I've made into this white and blue pig. Then my cousin's dad went and stole almost everything in it in front of me. Telling me that it's his money, and that I stole from him. But I didn't. I didn't steal anything from him. I remember that smirk on his face. I remember how I sat there on the mattress, alone in the cold room, in shock of what just happened and how I can't do anything about it. Who's going to listen to the scape goat? All the saving I've did for years just grew legs and walked out on me. I cried hard in that pink room by myself. I made a hole in the wall I was so frustrated. Served me right for stealing.

I began to roll the sheet up.

I started to think about how unhealthy I am and if I'll regret it. I started to think about if it even mattered and why it should. I'm not really comming up with much except having to repay my mother for keeping a roof over my head, food in the fridge and for seven years of being a mother to me. Yes, it has to be repaid. Why? I just feel like it has to be repaid. Needs to be a balance.

I wrapped my the large sushi roll I've made and it fell apart. Cucumber pieces, rice, pieces of meat from some unknown animals, crushed Ruffles chips pieces all over the cutting board. I felt like eating something with meat on it. I stared at the fallen food.

"Like hell I'm going to pick that up and eat it." I picked it up with my hands and ate it.

"Like hell I'm going to eat the rice off the dirty counter" I said to myself and picked up the rice off that dirty counter with my hands and ate it.

I tried to remold the sushi roll into a roll while astral projecting unwillingly at the same time, and the roll became some failure that I eventually cut up into five parts and ate it at the kitchen counter with my hands because I was too tired to use any utensil.

It wasn't very tasteful and I was getting more and more depressed after every handful of food I shoved into my mouth. I ranted very quickly in my head about mental disorders I may have and if there are pills I should take. As I ranted, I astral projected in and out a few dozen times until I forgot what it felt like to be grounded.

I looked at the BBQ flavored Ruffles and wondered why I was eating that. I had a flashback of my dad explanning to me why I shouldn't eat or drink that if I was sick.

I shoved what was left of my roll into a bowl and took out a pair of chopsticks.