Weird World, Only Me

The world is rotting and I'm the only "spectator" At first, it was just that the street lights flickered on and off in the middle of the night, and the reflection in the mirror was always half a beat too slow. Later, gibbering that no one could understand came from the subway tunnel, and the shadows in the corners of the city began to gain quality. The whole world was pretending that everything was normal until I found a yellowed note under my pillow: "Don't look in the mirror. Don't trust the clock. Three seventeen in the morning, look back." In the era of strange resurgence, ordinary people's cognition is being quietly tampered with. Only I - the one chosen by that mysterious note - can see the "real layer" of this world. Under the anonymous guidance, I found that the passers-by I passed every day may have been "empty"; behind the glossy photos in the circle of friends, there were hidden Morse codes asking for help; and the safest home would become the entrance to another dimension at night. Each note appeared exactly at the time and place I needed, as if someone had predicted everything, or someone was playing a chess game that spanned time. I carefully explored the gap between reality and weirdness, trying to piece together the truth about the collapse of this world. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.