I don't know whether it's a tragedy or a comedy. When I woke up from my dream, I secretly changed my job and my living place, from a shabby house to another shabby house.

     The shortcomings I think become advantages in his eyes. For example, he likes my short hair, my flat chest, and my weak body.

      Later, he appeared in my nightmares. In my dreams, he always chased me to escape. I said to myself that if I meet him next time, I will kill him. Since then, I always carry a bundle of rope and a knife that can kill people in my backpack. But since then, I have never met him again. He may have died.

      Summer begins. Yes, it's an illusion of life. In the hot sun, I wrap myself like a mummy. I don't know what it's like to wear skirts and make-up anymore. I dare not. About two or three years later, when I thought I was no longer afraid, I put on a short skirt, put on makeup and went to government agencies with great joy. When I was about to return to the company, I was harassed by a short, fat, middle-aged man at the subway station.

      He said, "Beauty, your legs are beautiful." then he smiled ferociously, and I began to feel palpitation. The next day, I still wrapped myself up like a mummy. Tian Yuan, who used to like the Afaker band, was in the water for a period of time, and the sun could not get around countless turns. In July, Wuhan was as hot as a stove. In order to buy one of her out of print books at that time, from the east to the west of the city, every bookstore and flea market, big and small, were not neglected. Finally, I found it in a humble second-hand bookstore. The book covers are worn and yellow.

      I read about this book on Douban. Most people think that the biggest failure of Chinese youth novels is pregnancy and abortion. There is no youth and love for those who laugh. Love wants to have children. Abortion, love is gone. And then grew up, it's very young.

      The German told me that he would learn to tie ropes, tie a bow on me, and then be thrown down into the pond to gulp and gulp. I didn't like the feeling of suffocation, the feeling of closeness, and the stupidity and dread at that time. I was afraid of being pregnant, then deliberately didn't eat, and finally fainted in the rental room.

      I've never hated babies like that, though I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't. I have a good friend. We are always together. We go out on dates several times a week. We eat together, watch movies, and then go for a walk in the park. So I shared my secret. She humiliated me and told the secret to others. It's no secret to spread the secret.

      It's like going back to World War II, when women who had sex with Germans would be undressed and liquidated. I don't want to pry into the world or share time. I just want to soak the only sense of security in formalin, put it on the head of the bed and fall asleep safely.

      Nothing is mine. I'm just a temporary custodian. "My" does not exist in this world at all. Even if life comes to time, it is natural for someone to take away everything they have.

      I had a dream, from 5:57 when I first woke up in the morning to 6:57 when I woke up again, just one hour. The house is still that house, but it has changed the pattern and become more disorderly. Five pieces were scattered all over the ground. The broken pieces of the vase cut their ankles. didn't even have slippers. All of this is real and ethereal. The air and dust in the city are mixed. There is not enough water vapor to mediate evenly. It's maddening. I don't know if it's an illusion. He laughs in the corridor, especially dazzling.

      The world of light and shadow is thousands of miles away from me. He comes in and lies quietly on the sofa. I was the only one left in the room. I turned the key twice before going out. When I woke up, it was 6:57. I didn't have the habit of drawing the curtains. I was afraid of being late for work. I needed a little light to make me barely have the concept of time. No matter in the dream of dawn or the raging reality, sleepwalking is spreading, all my memories to find the way of this life. The room is only 55 square meters lonely, obviously I'm tired of the clutter.

      How can I fight this tragedy and sink into despair. Forgive me, my body is rigid, the ketone body covered with white juice, I bet the devil is there, sitting in the cold slate. Don't talk, look up at me, polarize and intimidate. I've lived in this box for four years.

      I took two sleeping pills, and I knew that I would continue my nightmares and dreams of yesterday, and I would doubt whether the German really existed. The distortion caused by anxiety makes me unable to distinguish the dream from the reality. It may be an aphrodisiac. I would like to disintegrate in an unhealthy embrace. I said I was real, nightmare hidden in the old TV, hidden in the sea floor of lack of oxygen, virus spreading, using me. What hurt me deeply is tiredness. I want to sleep and find some dreams and cigarettes.

      I know I'm real. When you ask me if I have superpowers, I say, "I'm real. I can control dreams. It's a serious thing.". I know very well that all I do is forgive. Two years ago, I tried to write a novel. There is no limit to its subject matter. I can write whatever I think of. For example, the utopian world in dream, the lover who is not deep enough, the whale that swims eels at the bottom of the sea. At that time, I just had nightmares. The place in my dream was an abandoned city. It would snow in winter. There was no one here and there was no sunshine.

      The houses are crowded together.I can only see the corners of the house when I look up. The distance between the buildings is so close that you can't even see the sun when I look up. It's easy to produce cockroaches in humid environment, as well as rats living in the underpass. I'm afraid of mice, cockroaches and dirt.

       I didn't have money or a good job. At that time, I seemed to be the most unlucky person in the world. It is clear that he is a victim, but also suffer the whipping of people around him. Last year, I met again to reveal my secret and liquidate my good sister with others. I didn't jeer at her. I knew she was abandoned by her boyfriend and was pregnant. However, the Chinese thought tradition does not allow unmarried childbearing. She looked at me and smiled. I looked at her like a corpse.

      I swallowed the sleeping pills, and when I woke up again, he really seemed to have disappeared. I never heard the squeaking of wheelchair in my nightmare. I never went to the maze like house. My father brought my mother to my house without my permission. I don't like them in my house at all.

      I saw my mother skillfully using my cup and cosmetics, then taking a bath with my towel, then lying on the sofa, looking like a hostess. I told her this was The Other Boleyn Gril, I always thought she was stupid, and her mind was easy to double standard. She told me that there was a young girl in the place where she worked who was a lover for a middle-aged man. She thought that girl was very smart because she asked that man to buy her a house.

     "Then shouldn't extramarital affairs be shameful?" I asked.

     "Girls have money to take better care of themselves," she said. She always thinks that she knows me best. For example, she always wants to find a relaxing topic with me, let me change her dressing style and follow her arrangement.

      Then my former good friend told my mother my secret. It took me a long time to accept it. As a result, she let me go back to the beginning. I am shameful because I have sex with the Germans. When they read the news about the rape victims, they will be full of tears and say, "poor girl, she should protect herself.". In fact, they are isolated and abusive. They want to liquidate the women who provide services to the Germans like the French.

     When I began to dislike him less, he had disappeared, disappeared in my dream. Sometimes I would go back to the maze like house by myself, walking around in the ruins, without the squeaking sound of wheelchair, even breathing sound could be heard clearly.

      The house is the same one, with more windows. Then I saw myself barefoot, with a knife, pushing the table slowly to the window, laying the tablecloth and setting the tableware. Will you lose sleep tonight? If so, it's the seventh day in a row. I think so, because I had a whole cup of super iced Matcha. Today's Starbucks is full of people. Middle aged women are talking, young couples are talking, young men are talking loudly. I really, super hate places like this, like the vegetable market.

      The eyes are corroded by desire, leaving only an empty shell. The mirror is full of misty water vapor, lipstick is printed on the glass door, dawn is coming, all these can't be wiped off any more. I even forgot when I was afraid of interpersonal communication, strange men, rape and death. I don't dare to make new friends. I'm afraid that they will find out what I don't know and spread my affairs like a virus.

      No one but myself can spend the whole life with me. All the people are just passers-by. They come and go without stopping. All the people close to them have only one end, that is to leave. No matter how long the company is, there will only be this doomed result. The word loneliness seems too heavy, which makes me think of a kind of despair that is only me between heaven and earth. Think of the pain of the high place is too cold to find a friend. Think of the deep feelings no one can tell. Think of standing in the noisy city and looking at this strange world. I have never experienced deep loneliness.

      She has never changed. No matter how hurt or betrayed she is, she is still the lovely girl who has confidence in the future. I am the only one who looks disgusting, who has been sharpened and lost his own judgment. Hearsay will be firmly rooted in my heart.

      This time I went to sleep safely without sleeping pills. If you come and find the door is closed, you should ring the doorbell once and then. I will stand outside the cat's eyes with the best posture, let me know it's you, let me open the door.

        I still can't recover my superpowers. I blame my former residence, the old ladies who love to dance in the square downstairs. I'm afraid of suffocation, eager to breathe oxygen, and I don't like earplugs. I always keep the window open, and the aunts like to dance downstairs every 7 o'clock, from 7 o'clock in the morning to about 9 o'clock. I lost my superpower when old ladies changed their music.

        Everyone's surface is very beautiful, and dishonorable things can't be publicized everywhere. I found that I finally became a very poor person when I was a child. Living in a shabby room, fast food is prone to diarrhea and lack of green vegetables. Work can only survive, just enough to eat. Now I don't have to live in a dilapidated room, but sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had his children then. Because of the vomiting caused by gastrointestinal discomfort, I thought it was a sign of pregnancy. I bought a pregnancy test stick, again and again, and then woke up the next day to find blood on the bed. I think vomiting is a sign of pregnancy, even when the physiological period comes.

        Later, the psychiatrist at the mental hospital told Stockholm about the significance of the disease and anxiety disorders, and he hoped I could be treated in the hospital. I changed my name, Ann. I like any name with Ann from now on.

        In the past, my favorite magazine was HuaHuo. I remember a story about "looking for Xiachuan". At that time, I especially liked Shanghai, which was homophonic as "hurt". Zhou Xun has a movie called Suzhou River. In the underground cinema, the old projector is playing. The peony is wearing two ponytails and jumping and rruning. Her favorite is the mermaid. She often wears a fish tail and sits by the river.

       If I left, would you look for me like a motor?

      Yes

      Will you keep looking?

      Yes

      Will you always find death?

      You lie