Chapter 18 Reading Dreams at the End of the Eighteenth World

I couldn't clearly understand my own heart, so I just started dream reading again.A cold day is better than a day, and work cannot be put off forever.At least, during the time of concentrating on dream reading, I can temporarily forget the sense of loss in my heart. On the other hand, however, the more one reads the dream, the more a sense of exhaustion of a different form swells in the body.The reason is that I can't understand the figurative language that Gu Meng confides, no matter how attentive I am in reading.I can read it but not understand its meaning.It's like reading incomprehensible articles day after day, or watching the passing river every day.There is no home for me.Dream-reading skills have certainly improved, but they can't give me solace.The improvement of technology has only allowed me to effectively increase the number of dream readings, and the emptiness caused by continuing this kind of work has become unstoppable.In order to improve, people can continue to make corresponding efforts, but the problem is that there is nowhere for me to improve.

I don't understand what the ancient dream means.I said to the girl, you said before that my job is to read ancient dreams from skulls, right?But that's just passing through me.In fact, there is no way to understand it at all. The more I read, the more I feel that I am severely worn out. That being said, you read like crazy, why? have no idea.I shook my head.Sometimes it is selfless work to relieve the sense of loss.But even I think it's not the only reason.As she said, I really went crazy when I read about dreams. I'm afraid it's also because of your own problems, I think.said the girl.

My own problem? I think you should open up more.I don't know much about the mind, but it seems to me that it is in a tightly sealed state.Just as the ancient dream begs for your interpretation, you are probably also begging for the ancient dream. How do you see it? Because that's what dream reading is all about.Just like birds come and go north and south with the seasons, dream readers are also constantly pursuing dream reading. Then, she stretched out her hand, put it on my hand across the table, and smiled, like a ray of soft spring light falling from the clouds. Open up!You are not a prisoner, you are a bird chasing dreams in the sky!

After all, I can only hold the ancient dreams one by one in my hand and read them with concentration.I picked up one of the ancient dreams that can be seen everywhere on the bookshelf, gently hugged it in my arms and transported it to the table.The girl helped to wipe off the dust with a slightly damp rag, and then slowly wiped it rhythmically with a dry cloth.After fine grinding, the ancient dream is as white as snow, and the two black eye sockets on the front look like a pair of faint ancient wells whose depth is unknown. I gently covered the top of the skull with my hands, waiting for the skull to start to heat up slightly under the action of my body temperature.When it reaches a certain temperature, like the sun in winter, the skull that is not too hot and has been worn white begins to narrate the ancient dreams engraved on it.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my heart, and explored the story narrated by the skull with my fingertips.But his voice is too subtle, and the image reflected is as confusing and confusing as a distant star in the dawn sky.What I read out of it are just a few inaccurate fragments, no matter how they are put together, it is impossible to grasp the whole. Invisible scenery stretches here, inaudible music flows, and incomprehensible words are murmured.Sometimes it leaps suddenly to the top, and sometimes it sinks sharply into the black valley.There is nothing in common between one fragment and another.It's like turning the tuner on a radio quickly from one station to another.I tried in every way to keep my mind as close to the fingertips as possible, but in vain.I could sense that the ancient dream was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't interpret it as a story.

Perhaps there is some flaw in the way I interpret it.It may also be due to the fact that their language has been completely worn and weathered over the long years.Or whether there is a fundamental difference in timing and setting between the stories they conceived and the ones I conceived. In any case, I can only watch these heterogeneous fragments appear and disappear in silence.Of course, there are also some very ordinary scenes that I have become accustomed to: white clouds drifting in the sky, sunlight jumping on the river surface, there is no special feature at all. But these mediocre scenes filled my heart with indescribable and inconceivable sorrow.In any case, I can't understand why these scenes contain elements that make me so sad, like a ship passing by outside the window, appearing but disappearing without leaving a trace.

After about ten minutes, Gu Meng began to gradually lose body temperature like an ebb tide, and soon turned back to the original cold and pure white bones.The ancient dream fell asleep again.All the water dripped from the fingers of my hands to the ground.My dream reading homework is always repeated. When Gu Meng was completely cool, I handed it to the girl and she placed it on the counter.At this time, I leaned on the table with both hands to rest my body and relax my nerves for a while.I can interpret at most five or six ancient dreams a day.If it exceeds this number, the attention will be unable to concentrate, and what the fingertips can interpret are only tiny fragments of words.When the wall clock in the room pointed to eleven o'clock, I was so exhausted physically and mentally that I couldn't stand up straight from my chair for a long time.

At this time, she always brought the last cup of hot coffee, and sometimes brought cookies, bread, and fruit baked during the day from home for supper.Generally, we barely speak anymore, drink coffee, eat cakes or gnaw bread face to face.I was so tired that I couldn't speak decent sentences for a long time, and she knew this too, and was as silent as I was. You can't open your heart because of my relationship?The girl asked, I can't respond to your heart, so your heart is closed tightly? As usual, we sat on the stone steps leading to the sandbar in the middle of the old bridge and watched the river.A bleak and innocent little moon shivered on the surface of the river.Sitting side by side on the narrow stone steps, I have been feeling her body heat on my shoulders.People often compare the heart to body temperature, but there is nothing to do between the heart and body temperature, which is unbelievable!

It's not like that, I said, my heart can't fully open probably is my own problem, no wonder you.I couldn't clearly understand my own heart, so I was confused and restless. You can't figure out the heart? Sometimes, I say, some things are impossible to understand after a long time, and some things are not understood until it is too late.Most of the time, we have to choose actions without knowing our own heart clearly, so we feel lost and confused. I feel that the heart seems to be very incomplete.The girl said with a smile. I took my hands out of my pockets and watched in the moonlight.The hands whitened by the moonlight looked like a pair of statues, a pair of statues perfectly self-contained but lost.

I, too, feel that it is very incomplete.I said, but there will be traces, and we can follow the traces all the way back, just like walking along the footprints in the snow. Where are you going? myself.I replied, the so-called heart is such a thing, without the heart, one cannot go anywhere. I look up at the moon.Dongyue emitted a bright light beyond her capacity, hanging above the town surrounded by high walls. Nothing can blame you.I said.