Tomato Original Plagiarism Prohibited Chen Ming always feels that he lives in two worlds.
In his world, faucets cry, sycamore trees understand the frequency of bowing, and each pill hides a different whisper - until the man in a white coat said he had "cognitive deviations," and until the man who always wore a plaid shirt handed over a business card with "psychiatry" printed on it, he suddenly realized that those conversations he regarded as secrets might be just groundless in the eyes of others.
But he had clearly seen cat paw prints writing passwords on the ceiling, heard old news in expired cans, and even the stone lion at the gate of the community would change its posture at three o'clock every morning. When "normal" is defined as closing the corners of imagination, when "treatment" means forgetting those breathing details, Chen Ming stood at the fork in the hospital corridor, suddenly not knowing which way to go - whether to walk into the "reality" where everyone nodded and smiled, or to turn back and run towards the bustling "chaotic world" that only he could understand.
What made him even more confused was that the doctor who said he was "sick" always had the same moss on his sleeves as the stone lion's paws; the neighbor who advised him to "wake up" would secretly make help gestures to him when he spoke.
It turns out that the so-called reality has never been more than one side.
