I'm probably going to die.
How to describe that feeling? The blade of the knife sliced open his chest, his fingers held his throat, and cold water filled his lungs - every detail was so clear that it was too clear to be a dream. But they are indeed dreams, and they come every night without interruption.
Everything in the dream is reincarnated. Same people, same scene, same ending. I was like a puppet trapped in a script. I knew that the next step was an abyss, but I could only walk through it step by step. Every time I struggle to wake up, it's just to fall deeper next time.
Day to day.
Night after night.
Until I couldn't tell which one was the nightmare I needed to wake up from.
Concept: Is what I think is reality really the reality?