The day I was admitted to Qingshan Hospital, the doctor said I was crazy.
They said that it was not me who woke up at 3:17 in the morning, but an illness; that the ceiling could breathe was not a hallucination, but a symptom. They fed me white pills to make me forget the songs deep within the walls—those toneless, inhuman whispers.
But I know I'm not crazy.
I saw the cracks in the world and heard the 4.7Hz resonance deep in the earth's core. I use prime numbers to suppress chaos and pi to anchor reality. When seawater seeps from the cracks in the wall, when deep divers swim in the corridors, when patients become keys and doctors become gravekeepers——
I choose to be the last sane madman.
This is not a medical record, but a "Non-Euclidean Chaos Observation Log". It's not a delusion, it's the hidden truth.
