At ten o'clock at night, the asphalt road outside the window was still moving and broadcasting the Henan hard-core village chief shouting to the villagers, which woke up my baby who was soft and soft, and I kept holding her until she fell asleep.

As a militiaman, Mr. Liu has an unshirkable responsibility to protect the safety of the community. During the Spring Festival, Mr. Liu, who went out early and returned late, slept on the sofa every night for the sake of the soft baby and was in a mood with me.

At half past five this morning, I was woken up by the baby, feeding, changing diapers, and falling asleep, and it took more than an hour to get sleepy. I turned on my phone and read the e-book "The Power of Introversion".

At half past eight, I got up, lit the natural gas, put half a pot of water, boiled some yellow flower mushroom beef bone soup, recently the back of the head "buzzed", I remembered, my mother called and said, "I sent you some dried vegetables, a bag of yellow flowers and wild mushrooms brought back from your uncle's house, to replenish qi and blood, yellow flowers to calm the nerves and brains, put some when boiling soup."

My movement woke Mr. Liu, who was playing chess on his phone. Close the kitchen door and go back to the bedroom, the baby is not awake. I lay in Mr. Liu's arms and looked at the e-book comfortably.

I looked at the time in a daze, it was nine o'clock, I put down my phone and squinted for a while, and then I had a five-fold lucid dream.

The first thing about this dream is that I know that I am dreaming, and my eyes want to see the dream clearly, just like a person who has arrived in a strange environment, because of his inner turmoil, and urgently wants to look at the things around him, in order to seek familiar comfort.

So, what should your dream look like?

Black and white, even multicolored. It's chaotic, and it's like a serial drama with clues. Sometimes cows, horses, snakes, a bunch of dead people, sometimes spring and snow, colorful. Let you love but can't, make people hate and can't. It's complicated, because it has no form, but it is varied and unpredictable.

In dreams, I expect to see some truth, not abstract, ethereal, inexplicable feelings.

But my eyes were blank and there was nothing.

Indeed, although dreams have sounds, they cannot be touched. It has no color, no form, no taste, it is a place that the senses cannot reach, it is nothing.

In the dream, I was awake, and this lucidity was limited to knowing that it was not me thinking with my eyes closed, but that I was uncontrollably present in the dream, expecting to see something, and seeing nothing. Then something important in my heart appeared, more than 90 days of milky soft baby.

In my second dream, I saw my baby with a soft milky scent.

Guess what's she doing?

She's exercising. She curled up and got into the gymnastic rings, which were like my arms hanging her in front of my eyes, and I was amazed by the rings I wanted to play with but couldn't reach.

Dreams are amazing, it seems that as long as I want to go, I can go wherever I want, and I can do whatever I want. I can control my dreams, I can fly freely in my dreams, and I'm a little excited. I couldn't suppress my excitement.

What I want. I wanted to release the back of my head with excitement.

So I went into the third part of the dream, and then there was a wedding ceremony. Whose wedding ceremony is this? Where is it held? I sat in my seat and knew it was a dream, and the back of my head tightened.

Then I saw my second sister, she was sitting next to me, this is my second sister's wedding scene? But the girl in the wedding dress and the groom were on the high platform in the center of the seat, and my second sister was not yet married.

For my second sister, I feel deeply guilty.

When I was young, I read literature, a lot of it from my two older sisters and my younger brother. All four of us love literature, and often the literary books borrowed by my eldest sister and second sister and my brother have not yet come to read, so I read them first.

When I was in the second year of junior high school, my eldest sister went to a junior college, and my second sister went to a secondary school, and they came home once a week, and they would bring a few literary books to read by themselves, sometimes they brought me specifically, and every time I was greedy, I always couldn't help it, and secretly read them in the bed with a flashlight at night, and occasionally my mother found out, and she couldn't help but want to hit the back of my head with a book.

When my second sister was in secondary school, she published an essay, I remember the name was "Broken House", and later the editor renamed her "Old House", which is a story about my family planning without money to pay fines, after being held on the roof, living in the old house of a friend of my father's house, and then our family built a new house, the old house collapsed and decayed, but there were many good memories of our family.

I remember that at that time, she told my mother that the newspaper had replied to her and that she could pay 50 yuan to become a small reporter outside the newspaper. I don't remember if my mother gave it later, but at that time, my family's situation was really embarrassing.

My second sister's behavior is the most beautiful memory in my entire youth. I think I'm going to write an article as well. But I couldn't write anything, I could only read literature fiercely, and I had vented my deep anxiety.

I didn't get into college in my junior year of high school, and I was admitted after repeating a year with a one-point advantage over the high score, while my brother didn't get in, but he didn't want to repeat it. All I went to college with him.

My brother's living expenses in college were sent to me by my eldest sister and eldest brother-in-law (who was still my boyfriend) when they were working in Beijing, and my two-year living expenses were sent to me by my second sister working in the south, and every cent was saved from between my teeth. My second sister is only two years older than me, and she has not been married yet, and she always says that she has not met a suitable one.

I want her to do what she wants, and if I make money writing books, I think the first thing I do is to buy her a house, and Mr. Liu won't mind.

In my dream, who is not my second sister's wedding scene, I don't have time to think about it. From deep guilt for my second sister, the back of my head is not so tight.

I saw a group of policemen come in, handcuffed and walked towards the stage, and the people in front of them all stood up, crowded with policemen.

My orgasm has come and I can think normally. Why do police officers show up at weddings? Did you catch me?

The police are coming to arrest me, the police are arresting me.

I quickly woke up.

I woke up, but I was still squinting.

The fourth dream is in this state, I lay in Mr. Liu's arms, squinted, asked him to help me look at the time, and he said it was 9:36.

I opened my eyes and glanced at the clock hanging on the dining room table, the minute hand was still on the right half, which was not the right time. I am conscious, at least the sense of time is awake. I only squinted for a moment, ten minutes. I realized again that I hadn't woken up, that it was a dream.

Once again, I turned my attention to Mr. Liu, who was still lying on his phone.

"Help me see the time," I said.

"It's 9:24," he replied.

The time was right, I looked at the clock, and the minute hand was probably at this position. I thought to myself, I'm awake, just half-awake.

I heard the baby crying, and Mr. Liu called me, "Get up, the baby is crying, look at it, she will be anxious for a while."

I opened my eyes and asked Mr. Liu, "Did I just ask you about the time?" ”

He replied, "Yes."

In fact, however, I didn't ask Mr. Liu because I knew I was dreaming.

This time it's just daydreaming. But for the sake of literary effect, I couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality for a while.

"Look at the baby, she'll be in a hurry," he said.

Baby? I woke up.

I whispered, "Hmm," and then I got up, walked to the bedroom, and looked at the clock on the dining table, where the minute hand was at three o'clock.

When I picked up the baby, I suddenly remembered that there was still soup boiling in the pot. But it was too late, the water was dry, the bones were charred at one end, and the whole kitchen smelled of burnt.

I'm sure it's a dream, not a squinting whim.

I spent more than four or five hours thinking, recounting a dream that lasted less than sixteen minutes.

I can't help but ask, what does this burnt dream mean to me?

I'm just too tired and need to let go.

In my dream, the police at the wedding came to supervise me and punish me, in fact, it was not only the bone broth that was burned, but also the dream and my marriage.

At that time, I felt deep down that there was a problem in my marriage and that I might need judicial intervention, and I didn't tell Mr. Liu, but I used to think so in my heart.

Then I gave Mr. Liu a poem:

What I want to say:

I don't want to say worldly glamorous words,

I just want to say the words from the depths of my soul,

"I don't want others to think I'm good, but I can't get better......"

In that case, I will just run away like a fugitive, flee, and wander the world.

Finally one day, I met Mr. Liu,

He's in an inconspicuous town,

In a small building,

Give me and my milk soft scented baby

Leave a room.

I can say what I want to say,

That's what I want to say,

Although the world does not like it.