I looked up from my desk sleepily, wiped the saliva from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, stretched out my numb arm, yawned, turned my face to my tablemate who was packing up my books, and asked:

"Pig, how long have I been asleep?"

"If you count it as a whole sleep, it should be for a while. But looking at your unclear state, I'm afraid you haven't been asleep. Alas! ”

He sighed and then said, "We followed Sister Lin around Jiafu for the whole class, it's better for you to follow Brother Bao directly to visit the illusory realm." What do you think? Did the police fantasy fairy teach you the number of YY. ”

I sneered: "Yun, you are big, Yun, you know how to carry a watering can to sprinkle water all day long, take it easy, maybe one day your she will suddenly appear and borrow some GL from you to pour her H, and then you will be embarrassed if you have no L to borrow!"

"Y, so a master is a master!" He raised his eyebrows and cocked his right thumb as he said.

"Oh! By the way, why didn't you remind me before? ”

"Sleep silly, Master! Don't you have a permit to sleep in language classes? The head teacher has nothing to do with you, how dare I disturb you! Let's go, together. ”

"Where are you going?"

"Canteen, that's stupid!"

"Oh! You go first, I'll sit down again, wake up sleepy. ”

"You just snort, I'll flash first."

"Get out of here!"

As the saying goes, if you are not active in eating, you have a problem with your thoughts. In the blink of an eye, I was the only one left in the class.

I sat in the quiet and empty classroom, holding my chin with one hand, staring blankly at the faded "study hard, make progress every day" above the blackboard, and my heart was very inexplicable.

I grabbed my hair with my hand, withdrew my gaze, and thought about the dream I had just made like a contemplative person who had been baptized by spiritual civilization, and I always felt that it was too much.

Because I had just read "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" before, the people I admired more were Zhou Gongjin and Zhao Zilong, so it was logical and beyond reproach to dream of returning to the Three Kingdoms as Zhao Zilong. But what the hell is the Fengmingshan Psychiatric Hospital that entered randomly?

Besides, the name of the place has never been heard of. Although I couldn't figure it out, I still picked up the pen and recorded the things in the dream in detail, the details of the previous experience - the dream will be forgotten soon after waking up, and when I recall it again, it will be blurred, and it is really like a fantasy.

Sometimes real memories are confused with fragments of dreams, which is reminiscent of the couplet in "Dream of Red Mansions" written in the realm of too illusory - when the fake is true, the truth is also false, and there is nowhere and there is nothing to do.

Regarding the truth and falsehood of the dream, I suddenly remembered a very embarrassing interesting story. As for the year it happened, I have no memory, but I remember that I once got a good sentence from a dream, "May the moon shine on you".

When I woke up, I was very happy, and I said that I must write a whole poem for this sentence in the future.

It's just that I never thought that the poem had never been masterful, and the good sentence in the dream was pointed out in public by a good person that it was from the Tang Dynasty poet Zhang Ruoxu's "Spring River Flower Moonlight Night".

Say a few more words. Good people are good and knowledgeable people, and they are the so-called talented people and talented women who are clamoring for in a certain TV show today.

Forgive me for being ignorant, and to this day I can't figure out why memorizing poems can also recite talented people and talented women, so those who can memorize 300 Tang poems and can't compose poems can be called? How should the predecessors who wrote famous poems be called?

In fact, I would like to ask those talented women, "Do you know how to do it?" "Some people may say that I have a sour grape mentality, but I really wish I was.

Don't believe it: a tree of pear blossoms is speechless, and the voice and teeth are gone. Breathtaking, the gold problem, the sound is only for the breath.

Having said this, it is indisputable that throughout the ages, dreams are indeed a kind of mysterious existence: it is actually a tactile three-dimensional existence under the control of consciousness, which is completely different from the nothingness that has been marked by consciousness when recalling.

As long as you don't wake up, it's real. Here I have a bold idea: Is our so-called life just a big dream? Isn't waking up from a dream the time of death?

If this is the case, then the mystery will be doomed to eternal life. Have you ever seen a person outside of a dream who can still receive the follow-up storyline after he left the dream?

Mysterious and mysterious, the door of all wonders. If it is really as Lao Tzu said, then the dream may really explain people as being tall, ugly, yin, and mao.

At the same time, there are some worries that it is just a magic show conjured up by consciousness, so how is the imaginary reality of our thoughts, along with all the "material entities" around and around us?

Is the true meaning of what we are looking for is the real nothingness, or the reality of nothingness? Thinking about it this way, many chaotic thoughts that make people dazed and panicked rush into the classroom called the brain as if they heard the class bell.

Okay, let's get down to business, after remembering the dream, I suddenly heard a knock on the door of inspiration, and sent the following text: A thousand halberds want to wear the dust, and the white horse is red in the robe. Gentian gun out of Nagasaka slope. The Romance of the Three Kingdoms did not say, and those who sighed were self-conscious. ……

After reading it a few times, I closed the essay and got up to leave the classroom. As soon as his right foot stepped out of the back door of the class, a familiar voice came from next to him:

"Hey!"