有那么一段时间，做梦是一样的主题，一样的事物，非常偏执。那时我觉得自己已经疯了。现在，梦还是不断，但却是毫无头绪的乱。不知是清醒了，还是已经疯到了境界。每每握紧拳头，不肯放，从来也知道，手心里空无一物。不肯放，是为自己虚构的主动权。Oftentimes I feel like Emily. The only difference is she sleeps with his corpse while I sleep with mine. She is the one who plays the initiative to the full, but in another sense she becomes the forever captive soul. Will I be luckier to be able to pull out and never get back in?