People can dream. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info Even humans and animals can dream. But the animal world is simple, and their dreams are not as complicated as those of people. Man is more complex than animals, because man thinks all the time, even the laziest person can't help but think. Otherwise, if a person does not want to eat or drink all day long, he will starve to death.

Even vegetative people who don't eat or drink don't fail to think. Because they lie there all day with nothing to do, and they can't see anything from the outside world. What is in their hearts is not known to the outside world. Therefore, they spend more time thinking than ordinary people who are busy with their livelihoods, so when they fall asleep, they estimate that what they dream about will be more complicated.

I dream a lot and am distressed by these dreams. So sometimes I often wonder if there are people who have the same problems as me, but the people I come into contact with don't seem to have these problems, so I put this kind of distress in the vegetative person. It's just that just as a vegetative person doesn't understand my pain, I don't understand their thoughts. All I know is that I am a dreamy person, and I am deeply troubled by it.

Most people have dreams, but when they wake up, they can't remember what they dreamed about. It's the same with me, even a nightmare won't leave much of an impression when I wake up. But it doesn't leave much of an impression, and after all, it doesn't leave any impression.

The same dream, each time only a few trivial memories are left. But if you have the same dream every time, then you will leave countless trivial memories. Sometimes, I wish I could remember the contents of my dreams clearly. Then I will be scared, and I will subconsciously forget about this dream. It won't be like now, even if it's boring, but you have to reminisce. For I was terrified of the dream, but I did not remember him. People are afraid of ignorance, but if you know a little but not everything, you tend to be even more afraid.

I've been having the same dream since I was very young, and I can't remember exactly what age I am. Maybe that's what people often say they've been through since they can remember, but what they remember is a good childhood, but my memory is a nightmare.

In my dreams, I am not a child, so I often feel that this is not my dream. But although I don't think the protagonist in the dream is me, I feel that he is me in the dream. This feeling that I am not myself but someone else, but he is my own, makes me feel like a bystander who has traveled back in time to my past life. Maybe what I'm seeing is really my own past life, but I don't know it.

At that time, I couldn't have thought so much. But I don't want to think about it not because I'm too young, but because I don't have time to think about it. In my dreams, I am not a child. But in my dreams, I didn't realize that I was dreaming, and naturally I didn't think about those strange things. In my dream, I just sat quietly in the public court, and then watched the grim-faced subordinates below bring up one prisoner after another.

I watched everything in front of me with a cold face, and then I drew a heavy stroke on a book with the thick and long slender thing in my hand, which did not look like a pen, and then said to my subordinates, "Next." ”

In this scene, no one speaks. Whether it was my subordinates or the prisoners who knelt down the hall and waited for them to fall, they were all silent. The prisoner was quietly brought up and then quietly escorted. As for the subordinates who were in charge of escorting the prisoners, although they had a killing stick in their hands, they also looked quiet. It seems that they did not even shout a few mighty words to add to the majesty of me, the lord who sat above the court.

But even though it's quiet, the atmosphere here is so frightening. This fear does not come from silence, but from the prisoners kneeling under the hall. It was as if they were in fear from the bottom of their hearts, and these fears came from the bottom of their hearts, so that there was no emotion in the whole room except fear.

Of course, in the absolute silence, there will be a little noise. These are the three words I shouted after I drew the stroke: "Next." ”

After these three words were shouted, the prisoners in the hall were either surprised or fainted, and even the pent-down fear seemed to fade a little. It's just a pity that these three words are just a prisoner's sentence. There were so many prisoners kneeling in the hall, and everyone was anxiously waiting for their verdict. Just a prisoner letting go of the boulder in his heart is not enough to change the atmosphere of the whole room.

I wonder why it's so quiet here. I was even more curious about what I had drawn in that notebook with a pen. Why is it that after painting once, the prisoners below relax as if it could completely change their lives? I wanted to see what was written in the notebook, but I couldn't read anything in the notebook, even though I was the one holding the pen.

It's just that I can't see clearly, and it's just scheming. But every time I want to see it seriously, the scene in my eyes immediately changes to another place. What's even more frustrating is that even though I know that every time I try my best to see it, I will move on to another, more terrifying scene, but I still watch it every time.

People sometimes make the same mistake. Every time I wake up, I tell myself not to try to read the book next time, but I still look at it every time. In this cycle of dreams, I finally didn't read a single word in the notebook. But I finally found out that it wasn't actually a book, but an account book. However, what he remembered above was not an account, but a dense collection of names.

As for what is written after the person's name, I can't see it. Because by that time, the dream has shifted to another scene.

The dream of judging the case in that hall before only made people feel extremely depressing, but they didn't see any real bloody scenes. To be honest, this kind of depression is also very uncomfortable, because it does not act on people's senses, but makes people feel a sense of despair from the bottom of their hearts.

All the people in that room were desperate, even the messengers who stood aside to escort the prisoners. Although they did not need to be drawn in a notebook by the people sitting in the hall, there was no hope in their hearts, so they were still desperate. (To be continued.) )