Like some others, I started out in a space that wasn’t empty at all, it was full of space, like an ordinary room. Some of it was mine, there’s nothing wrong with me. Then it emptied out. In the empty space you see everything, but there’s nothing to see—what looks like space is only the emptiness you’re in. I don’t think it belongs to anybody, I don’t know if it’s necessary, there’s nothing to put away or take out—I don’t think I’m neglecting anything I need to pay attention to. Or am I just another no-show like the others? When you look for something it doesn’t matter what you’re looking for, there isn’t room for anything else, for anything you don’t have. Before you can be cured they need to know what’s wrong with you. I think it’s based on a true story.