Actually, I don't have a bad memory. After all, I'm pretty good at endorsements since I was a kid. But unfortunately, my forgetfulness is too big and well known to everyone (friends who are familiar with me can’t help but give an angry thumbs up when they see this), over time, I completely despair of the accuracy of my memory, Dreams and reality have since become unpredictable and indistinguishable. For example, I've done a confession with trembling hands while half asleep. But after waiting for a long time, the girl didn't respond, and when I was lost, I flipped through the records, but couldn't find a trace. In view of the fact that I usually do a lot of coercion, such as deleting posts and records, and the girl has not responded since then, is it true that confession only happened in a dream, or is it just my psychological defense mechanism after failure. Selective amnesia is also a problem. became an unsolved mystery. After all, I can't shyly run to ask other girls: "Hey, girl, I think I confessed to you last night, but I don't know if it was a dream or a reality. Could you tell me, please?" If the confession is the true and only solution, then as soon as the words are spoken, the witty girl will immediately see through and point out what a clumsy trick such a second test is, and I will suffer the double insult of face and IQ. . How embarrassing would that be? ! How can the noble and glamorous I allow it to happen? So this question can only be buried in my heart in the end, even if it makes me sleepless every night like peas under 19 layers of goose down quilt.
Similar plot crashes actually exist. Stefan made a second mistake in a dream and wrote a rejection letter to Stephanie next door. When he woke up, he realized that something was wrong. He used a clothes hanger to retrieve the letter from under the neighbor's door, and then thought he was unaware. And I always felt that I had rejected a certain girl in my dream, and the girl was as indifferent as yesterday seemed to confirm this. And there may have been such a thing as the lady's plane was reversed because the girl missed her appointment in her dream, and I don't remember it anyway. But Zhuang Zhou Mengdie, strictly speaking, our real world may be just a dream of Brahma, so it is meaningless to be entangled in trivial matters such as memory or dreams.
Writing this, I finally realized that my insomnia might not only be because of my neurasthenia, but also because I'm an idiot—of course, it could also be a fine point, but it doesn't matter, other people look the same anyway. So the scientific solution should be like at the end of the film: Good night, girl, I'm going to find you in my dream.
Having said that, it seems like "Hey girl, I think I confessed to you, but I can't figure it out. Could you tell me, please?" This confession method seems to be quite creative, and maybe it will be useful one day in the future. Before that, though, I feel like I should slap myself and see if I'm dreaming first.
View more about The Science of Sleep reviews
