Every stretch of road traveled is the most fatal wound.

I can clearly distinguish the difference between dreams and reality, reality is a period of memorable wounds that I have walked through, a kind of severe pain that hurts into the flesh and blood, and penetrates deep into the bone marrow. But dreams are different, dreams are floating scrolls, and the pain in your mind will easily distinguish the difference between dreams and reality.

But the picture I wanted to realize in my dream made me dream reality, and I lost the difference between reality and dream.

I walked down the hallway, and the lights here were dim and glowing with ancient green, yes. I remember, I remember vividly, this is my dormitory, my dormitory where countless things have happened for three years. I remember that my dorm room was at the end, next to the bathroom, and every place here was full of memories, joys and sorrows.

I walked towards my dormitory.

I kept walking, but I found myself hovering in the same place, never moving. Is this another dream?

Then I ran, but nothing changed, and I didn't move.

Just when I was in a hurry, I suddenly realized that the place where I was the bathroom, the sound of dripping water against the background of the silence familiar outlined my memory, I walked towards the toilet, it was that scene, yes, it was that scene.

That's right, it's a dream, it's definitely a dream.

I actually saw a coffin in every position in the toilet, this is the blood spirit coffin.

I walked on, and after passing many private rooms with showerheads, there was a woman in the bath, a woman in a blood-silk dress, and it was filled with blood, and there were many locusts, scorpions, and centipedes, and many creatures that I had never seen.

I hurriedly stepped back, fearing that someone would live an unknown object.

No, nothing, the silence was surprisingly quiet, the silence seemed to be joking with me, the woman was lying quietly in the bath like a painting, but it was a dream, but it was a dream. No matter what happens or whatever, the comparison between the picture and the reality in this picture will never catch up with the reality and the feeling of shooting on the spot.

Reality is a sudden collision of realities.

Blood was drenched after the accident.

That's right, reality is made up of accidents one after another, and the two sides of the collision are drenched in blood, and the colors are stiff and precipitate the next accident.

I originally thought that those were all in the past, after all, they were in the past, and they would never affect the future, no matter how painful and injured those were, after all, they would have passed.

But more and more I found out that I was wrong, because those who came over had already taken root in the most vulnerable places of my body, leaving fragile scars, and stabbing your most vulnerable places from time to time in the future, the blood flowed but could not flow out of the body, and the blood that flowed in the skin because of the pain was slowly reconciled.

And when I came into contact with the thing of alcohol, some of it changed, and I could make reality the same scene as a dream, but people are real, and unlike dreams, one thing happened and cannot be repeated, but the other thing is something that never happened.

This thing allows countless people to enjoy the dream of that period of time, and get the happiness of that moment juxtaposed with the previous happiness, and all the wounds are ruptured and the pain in the wounds flow out but become beautiful things, and this is the charm.

I love wine and I love dreams