I was dreaming.
I climbed a desperately big mountain made of building blocks.
When I almost reached the top of the mountain, it caved.
And I tried it again.
I repeated the same thing over and over.
After all, I couldn’t reach the top of it.
When I woke up naturally, my older sister kept looking at me.
She said “Are you OK? You are sleeping and moan from fever for two days. I reported it to my mother. But she told me “Leave it alone.”…”
I think my mother is a real psychopath.
If I had reached the top of the mountain, I have not existed now.