"Everything is nothing, even I may be nothing, but only this flame is real." Despair doesn't seem so scary anymore. The only scary thing is that when we thought we had already escaped from the sea of despair, we suddenly found that happiness is nothing but a beautiful nightmare, and the despair that has not disappeared is the real reality.
When the post office was smashed to smithereens, 1408 appeared in front of my eyes again with unprecedented realism, and I saw the fear and despair bursting out of the man's face.
A rope, or an hour of a nightmare that repeats endlessly over and over again. How should I choose? I have no strength to choose. For the people who died in this room, at this time, death seems to be a beautiful dream. The raging flames burn. I see a man smoking a cigarette with contempt. In the end, we can finally choose our own way to leave, right?
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