网帖翻译

Dushka Zapata, I am a writer.
When my dad was a boy he was outside with his friends playing with a BB gun.
He got shot.
He ran home, his hand a bloody mess. My grandfather, a stoic man of few words, took a hold of it, spread his son’s fingers wide under the faucet, cleaned out the wound and wrapped it in a long, white bandage.
It wasn't until the injury had completely closed that they realized the pellet was still inside.
When I was little my Dad reached over one day and placed my thumb and forefinger on either side of this foreign obxt. "It's a bullet” he said. “It’s been lodged there for decades”.
This horrified me. I regularly requested permission to feel it.
When my Dad got older this pellet sometimes hurt. He went to a hand surgeon who said it was too embedded, too tangled up in one of the most delicate, complex parts of the human anatomy. Unless he was in serious pain, he advised to let his hand be.
I dream of my Dad almost every night. I dream of his house and him inside it, the big, white walls, the wood beams and high ceilings. The dreams are not apparitions but I feel him. I like to think he hasn't gone far.
Sometimes I wake up and feel a dull ache between my fingers. With my other hand I search for that pellet, fully expecting to find it inextricably buried in the exact same place.
You might think it strange that I anticipate finding his bullet under my skin.
I find it stranger still to feel my hand and find that nothing's there.

当我爸爸还是个孩子的时候，他和他的朋友在外面玩气枪。
他被抢的子弹击中。
然后他跑回家，手上沾满了血。我的祖父是一个寡言少语的禁欲者，他打开了水龙头，把他儿子的手指在水龙头下伸展开，清理了伤口，再用一条长长的白色绷带把它给包了起来。
直到伤口完全愈合，他们才意识到子弹还在里面。
当我还小的时候，有一天，爸爸把我的拇指和食指放在这个异物的两边。“这是颗子弹，”他说。“它已经在那里存放了几十年了。”
这吓坏了我。我经常请求他允许我去感受它。
当我爸爸长大了，这个小球有时会带来疼痛。他去找外科医生做了检查，医生说它嵌入人体最脆弱、最复杂的部位的时间太久了。除非他很痛，否则他建议不要去碰他的手。
我几乎每晚都梦到我爸爸。我梦见他的房子和他在里面，白色的墙，木梁和高高的天花板。这些梦不是幽灵，但我感觉到了他。我觉得他还没走远。
有时我醒来时感到手指间隐隐作痛。我用另一只手去寻找那颗子弹，满心期待着能在同一个地方找到它。
你可能会觉得奇怪，我料到会在我皮肤下发现他的子弹。
我摸着我的手，却什么都没有发现，还是很奇怪。

Yui Lee, a 14-year-old with a passion for writing
I had this one dream that appeared regularly from when I was 7–9 years old.
I’m not quite sure if it could really be explained. The dream was set in medi times, I’m guessing. There was a kingdom with a castle, and people living there.
In the dream, this young boy, maybe aged 12 or 13, was being executed for some reason. They left the boy’s head on, but slowly sawed off his limbs as I watched in horror, desperately trying to wake myself up before I could witness anything else.
After the boy’s limbs were cut off, the executioner held up the body and the dead boy smiled at me.
Being the overly sensitive child I was, this dream haunted me. Maybe I was just overreacting, but 7-year-old me hated nightmares.

在我7-9岁的时候，我就经常做这个梦。
我不太确定这是否真的可以解释这个问题。我猜这个梦的背景发生在中世纪。有一座城堡中有个国王，人们住在那里。
在梦里，这个小男孩，也许只有十二三岁，因为某种原因被处决了。我惊恐地看着他们把男孩的头朝上，慢慢地把他的四肢锯掉了，我拼命地想在看到其他事情之前把自己唤醒。
男孩的四肢被砍掉后，刽子手举起了尸体，死去的男孩朝我微笑。
作为一个过度敏感的孩子，这个梦一直困扰着我。也许我只是反应过度了，但当时7岁时候的我讨厌做噩梦。

Emily Fisher, lives in Cochise County, Arizona
There’s a dream I started having practically in infancy, and was no more than 5 or 6 years old when I figured out why. Unfortunately, this knowledge did not make the dream go away.
My mother was the worst driver who ever lived.
As she was about the only driver I knew as a small child, I didn’t realize this until I was older, never knew that the extreme carsickness I experienced throughout childhood was simply due to the brain sloshing she caused by slamming on the brakes every few seconds, and she was certainly no smoother with the gas pedal. (Getting pukey just thinking about this.)
Hell, with my mother at the wheel, I was always carsick before we got out of the damn driveway.
Considering her frantic hysteria at all times, compounded by driving, it’s a bit of a miracle she only caused one crash in her life, and it was back in 1958.
That one was a doozy, though, even wound up in the newspaper, with a picture of our thoroughly demolished car beneath the giant soap truck she’d pulled out in front of to make a U-Turn on the highway. Soap flakes everywhere.
As a direct result of that accident, U-Turns became illegal on Route 4 in New Jersey.
I’d been in the backseat, napping with my head on my arms draped over the front seat — as I often did to combat my nausea — when my mother cut off the soap truck.
As rapid swerving was her regular way of driving, it didn’t wake me. What did was the soap truck falling on the roof of the car which crumbled beneath its weight and pinned my head to my arms on top of the front seat.
I don’t know if I actually couldn’t breathe or just felt like it — as it was always underplayed that anything at all had happened to me — but I definitely couldn’t move my arms or head until something came to lift the roof and get us out of there.
Same as how unless we had fevers we had to go to school no matter what, since there wasn’t a scratch on me, nothing happened.

我在婴儿期就开始一直做一个梦，当我发现原因时，我还不到5、6岁。不幸的是，这并没有让梦想消失。
我妈妈是世界上最糟糕的司机。
因为她是我小时候认识的唯一一个司机，我直到长大后才意识到这一点，我从来没有意识到我整个童年经历的极度晕车仅仅是因为她每隔几秒钟就猛踩刹车造成大脑晃动，而她踩油门时同样如此(想想就恶心。）
我妈开车的时候，我还没上车道，我就晕车了。
考虑到她一直有点歇斯底里，而且开车，她一生中只出过一次车祸，这真是个奇迹，那还是在1958年。
事故照片很引人注目，甚至还上了报纸，上面有一张照片，照片上是我们那辆被彻底毁坏的汽车压在一辆巨大的装载肥皂的卡车下面，地上皂片无处不在。她当时把车停在前面，准备在高速公路上掉头。
在新泽西州的4号公路上违法掉头导致那次事故的发生。
当时我坐在后座，头靠在前座的胳膊上打盹—我经常这样来缓解我的恶心—当时我妈妈正好挡在卡车前面。
由于她经常急转弯，所以没有吵醒我。那辆运肥皂的卡车压到车顶上，车在重压下崩溃了，把我的头压在了前座上的胳膊上。
我不知道我是真的不能呼吸了，还是只是一种感觉—因为人们总是低估我身上发生的任何事情—但我肯定无法移动手臂或头部，直到有什么东西来掀开屋顶，让我们离开那里。
就像除非我们发烧，否则无论如何都要去上学，因为我身上没有伤，所以什么事都没有。
原创翻译：龙腾网 https://www.ltaaa.cn 转载请注明出处

For my mother, the worst part by far was that the newspaper had referred to her as a “socialite,” which granted, couldn’t have been farther from the truth. But then, my being fine was just as far from it.
I can’t really say for sure that the soap truck on my head was the origin of the severe claustrophobia that haunted my childhood.
But since I never had a problem, for instance, crawling into tight spots for Hide and Seek, I’m thinking the issue only showed up when squeezing involved my head
(Then again, years later I became certain my claustrophobia came from this: Emily Fisher's answer to Do you think enemies, if you've ever had one, serve a useful purpose? Is there anything you learned from the experience?)
Oh, the dream! The dream is pretty much of me coming to in the back seat of a car, pinned by centrifugal force by going too fast around a long curve, then crashing through the guardrail and plummeting, waking before landing.
It’s quick, but filled with gasping fear. Here’s why. In real life, my mother nearly killed us each time we went over the George Washington Bridge from the Jersey side which had a huge curve of an entrance.
Not only were my early years in pre-car seat days and before seatbelts, but those 50s cars were huge, so we were thrown around a lot.
A good driver’s large curves mashed small children against one side of the car with centrifugal force, but my mother’s driving was more likely to toss us around like a pinball.
We went to NYC constantly, and until I was old enough to take over driving from her, without fail, each time she took that curve — way too fast and with numerous brake slams — I envisioned us crashing through the guardrail and plummeting into the river far below.
Certainly, by the time I’d interpreted the dream so young, I knew the driver was my mother. But I never did see her in the dream because I was too tiny, forcefully slammed against the backseat with the giant front seat looming between us.
I just saw the curved guardrails coming in and out of focus through the tops of the windows, finally giving way as she slammed into them one time too many, and we plummeted to certain death.
I assume the reason that realizing quite young where the dream came from didn’t obliterate it, is that it began to represent all the ways in which I was unsafe in my mother

对我母亲来说，最糟糕的是，报纸称她为“社交名流”，当然，这与事实相去甚远。但话说回来，我的健康也远远没有达到最佳状态。
我真的不能肯定地说，当时我头上的卡车是严重幽闭恐惧症的根源，这种恐惧症一直困扰着我的童年。
但是，因为我从来没有遇到过问题，例如，之前爬进狭窄的地方玩捉迷藏也正常，我想问题只出现事故因素。
(多年后，我又确信我的幽闭恐惧症来自于这个问题:艾米丽·费雪(Emily Fisher)的回答:如果你曾经有过敌人，你认为敌人是会造成影响的吗?你从这次经历中学到了什么?)
哦,梦!这个梦几乎就是我在一辆汽车的后座上，车辆超速行驶在一个很长的弯道上，受离心力影响，然后撞穿护栏，垂直坠落，在着陆前醒来。
速度很快，但充满了恐惧。这是为什么。在现实生活中，每次我们从泽西岛那一边大弯入口跨入乔治·华盛顿大桥时，感觉我妈妈都差点杀了我们。
我的早年不仅没有汽车（儿童）座椅，也没有安全带，所以我们经常被甩来甩去。
一个好司机的弯道会产生离心力，把小孩子挤到车的一边，但我妈妈的驾驶方式更有可能把我们像弹球一样抛来抛去。
我们经常去纽约，直到我大到可以接替她开车，每次她转弯时—因速度太快而刹车砰砰响—我都想象着我们冲过护栏，一头栽进下面很远的河里。
当然，当我年轻时候解读这个梦时，我知道司机是我的母亲。但我从来没有在梦里看到过她，因为我太小了，重重地撞在后座上，巨大的前座隐约出现在我们之间。
我只看到弯曲的护栏从窗户的顶部忽进忽出，最后因为她一次又一次地撞到栏杆上，我们摔了下去，肯定得死。
我想，在我很小的时候就意识到这个梦的来源并没有消除它的原因是，它开始代表我在母亲身边才导致不安全感。

Dayzha Brooks, lives in Saint Augustine, FL
Oh yes... It was not a pleasant one either.
I was about 5 or 6 years old and I'd have dreams that a train would run me over every night.
But not just any train, a freaking toy engine that my brother and I would play with almost every day.
These stuck around for about a year and a half.
Now, I was a pretty smart kid. I understood the theory that your daily actions and events influenced your subconscious. I was also very aware of my emotions and I was in control of my mind during my dreams. I knew that if I was experiencing a seemingly normal day whilst asleep, the train would be coming. I simply had to wait. The dream wouldn't end until the train came either. Oddly enough, my childhood best friend Travis would almost always be there. He was the comfort within my dreams like this though. I basically "put" him there to help me deal with the crushing pressure of anticipation that this train was coming.
I should probably mention something - there was no gore.
There was no blood, no pain, no fear of death. What would happen is when I heard the characteristic horn blow, I would promptly lay on the ground, my body straight as an arrow, and let it literally run over me. Then, I'd wake up.

哦,我是有做梦的，做梦的日子并不是令人愉快的日子。
大概五六岁的时候，每天晚上都会梦到火车从我身上碾过。
但不是普通的火车，而是我弟弟和我几乎每天都玩的该死的玩具。
连线做了大约一年半。
我是个很聪明的孩子。我知道日常行为和事件会影响潜意识。我也非常清楚自己的情绪，在做梦时我能控制自己的思想。我知道，如果我在睡觉的时候经历了一个看似正常的一天，火车就会来。我只能等待。在火车到来之前，这个梦也不会结束。奇怪的是，我儿时最好的朋友特拉维斯几乎总是在那里。他是我梦中的安慰。基本上，我把他“放在”那里是为了帮助我应对期待火车来时的巨大压力。
我应该提一下，没有流血。
没有流血，没有痛苦，没有对死亡的恐惧。当我听到标志性的号角吹响时，我会立刻躺在地上，身体像箭一样直，让它从我身上碾过。然后，我就醒了。

Curtis Lindsay, Pianist, composer, music teacher
I have a few. Some have recurred persistently throughout most of my life, while others have played on loop over a period of some months to a few years before vanishing from the repertoire.
Get ready for a wild and wacky tour of my somnolent psyche.
I’ve done something awful. Mom is upset about it. Sometimes I don’t have the faintest what’s the matter, and that’s the worst. She’s crying, pleading, yelling. I never interrupt, never even try. I just listen to the cascading disappointment and frustration. Most times we’re in the kitchen, and I’m staring out the window at the pasture and the road beyond.
Classic Mom-guilt right there; nothing more to say. I can count on this one once, maybe twice in a year.

我有做一些梦。有些情景在我的一生中一直反复出现，而有些则在几个月到几年的时间里循环做，然后在彻底消失。
准备好在我昏昏欲睡的心灵里进行一次狂野而古怪的旅行吧。
我做了件可怕的事。妈妈对此很不安。有时我一点也不知道是怎么回事，这才是最糟糕的。她在哭，在恳求，在叫喊。我从不打断，甚至也从不尝试打断。我只听到一连串的失望和沮丧。大多数时候我们都在厨房里，而我凝视着窗外的牧场和远处的道路。
这是典型的母亲有内疚感的时刻;没什么好说的了。我一年可以指望（做梦）一次，也许两次。
原创翻译：龙腾网 https://www.ltaaa.cn 转载请注明出处

I am in a strange house, looking for someone or something, not in a hurry, not paying especially careful attention even, as if sluggishly responding to some will other than my own. People are home here, but they exist only as momentary shadows in my periphery, in an adjacent room maybe, or quickly brushing by without seeming to notice me. I don’t know what I’m searching for; I just ramble casually from room to room. Finally I open a closet door, a slightly ajar bathroom door, something like that. Stepping through it, I find myself in another strange house, looking for someone or something. People are home here, but they exist only as momentary shadows…
This may be my most-repeated dream. I’ve been having it roughly once a month for over twenty years, since I was a young teenager, sometimes as a little sceme within another dream. I classify it as a “cool” dream — there’s no emotional content to speak of, no strong feeling of any kind upon waking other than bemusement at the weird shit my brain comes up with when I’m not in charge of it. This dream is somehow tied to early childhood memories of exploring indoor spaces which to my five- or six-year old self seemed impossibly vast and labyrinthine, and to the particular giddy feeling I’d get from passing so many hallways, so many doors, so much furniture. I interpret this one as generally signifying restlessness and uncertainty.
I open a dresser drawer, or a random cardboard box, or a cabinet door, and inside I find a ridiculous amount of cash in large bills. There is no time for reasonable questions, because my mind instantly begins to reel with all the possibilities, All my problems are over. It’s gonna be great… I’m so fortunate, so terribly lucky, so grateful.
Yeah. Waking up from this one is no fun. At all. I have actually cried over it, more than once. Thank goodness it doesn’t happen so often. When it does, it is of course directly tied to financial worries.

我在一个陌生的房子里，寻找着什么人什么事，并不着急，甚至也不会特别的留意，仿佛在对别人的意志做出反应，而不是自己的意志。家里人都在，但他们只是在我的周围作为阴影存在很短时间，也许是在相邻的房间里，或者迅速掠过，似乎没有注意到我。我不知道我在寻找什么;我只是随意地从一个房间溜达到另一个房间。最后，我打开了壁橱的门，打开一个微微半掩的浴室门，类似这样的东西。穿过它后我发现自己出现另一个陌生的房子里，寻找着某人或某事。
这可能是我重复过最多次数的梦了。在过去的二十多年里，我大概每个月都有一次这样的经历，从我还是个青少年的时候就开始了，有时是作为另一个梦中的一个小场面。我把它归类为“酷”梦——没有任何情感内容，醒来时没有任何强烈的感觉，除了对我不负责时脑子里出现的奇怪的东西感到困惑。这个梦在某种程度上与小时候探索室内空间的记忆有关，在我五六岁的时候，室内空间似乎是难以想象的迷宫般巨大，也与我经过这么多走廊、这么多门、这么多家具时产生的特别眩晕的感觉有关。我认为这一点通常意味着不安和不确定。
我打开梳妆台的抽屉，或者随便打开一个纸板箱，或者打开橱柜的门，我发现里面有一大笔大面额的现金。没有时间问是否合理的问题，因为我的头脑立刻开始都是各种可能性。我所有的问题都解决了。我很幸运，非常幸运，非常感激。
是的，从这种情况下醒来一点都不好玩，此次如此。我为此哭过不止一次。谢天谢地，这种事不常发生。当这种情况发生时，必然与担忧经济情况直接相关。

I’m hanging out with a random handful of friends, outside somewhere, in a city park or maybe just a big parking lot. The weather is warm and there is something strange about the sky (one time Jupiter and Saturn were hovering overhead in the twilight and their apparent size was way, way too large; another time it was morning, the sky cloudless and a perfectly uniform mustard yellow). My buddies and I are chatting sparsely, morosely, in a noncommittal and even fragmentary way. My father or one of my brothers may show up and just kind of linger in the margins without saying anything. Slowly, from context clues in the conversation, I realize what is happening: the world is about to end. Sometimes it’s an asteroid, sometimes a nuclear war. These are the last minutes anyone will ever live, and we’re gathered here, living them together. But there’s no panic. And there’s no point. Once I realize this, it becomes painful to speak to anyone, to look at anyone. So I stare at my feet, mostly.

我在城市公园，或者只是一个大停车场或在某个地方随便和几个朋友在外面玩。天气不错，天空有些奇怪(有一次，木星和土星在暮色中盘旋在头顶，它们的外观尺寸实在是太大了;另一次是早晨，天空万里无云，呈现出一种完全一致的深黄色)。我和我的朋友们零星的、忧郁地聊天，我的父亲或我的一个兄弟可能会出现在场景中，只是在边缘徘徊，什么都不说。慢慢地，通过前后对话中的线索，我意识到正在发生什么:世界即将毁灭。有时是小行星引起，有时是核战争。这是所有人生命的最后几分钟，而我们聚在这里，共同度过这段时光。但是没有恐慌。恐慌也是没有意义。一旦我意识到这一点，跟任何人说话，看着任何人都会变得很痛苦。所以我大部分时间都盯着自己的脚。

This one was a regular feature while I was going through puberty. It gradually petered out as I approached the age of twenty or so. I am uncertain of its meaning, but my best guess is that is related to losing childhood friends because they moved away or drifted off into other circles. I was often intensely sad about that sort of thing.
It is late at night and I am driving on a country road, probably on the outskirts of my hometown. There isn’t much traffic, just a passing car or two. For reasons that seem both completely unclear and undeniable, I stop the car and decide to get out and walk. I have an idea of where I need to get to. It’s many miles away. Just thinking about it makes me tired, but if that’s how it’s got to be, well, okay. Might as well get started. So I walk along the shoulder of the road; a few cars pass, their brilliant headlights piercing me. I wince. Then something very strange happens: I lie down prone on the road, stomach and face to the asphalt, and give a little push with my hands and feet almost as if swimming. I begin to glide forward. I push a few more times and begin to move faster, now like a hockey puck sliding across the ice. Soon I am hovering a few inches above the road and going a hundred miles an hour, the nocturnal landscape whizzing by in one great blur. I am laughing hysterically.
For a few years in my twenties I had this dream, or some slight variant, so often that I considered seeking counseling purely to address it. Not that it’s a bad dream — it’s an awesome one — but for a while there this one was visiting on a weekly basis.

这是我青春期的做的最常见的梦。当我快到二十岁左右的时候，这种感觉就逐渐消失了。我不确定它的意思，但我的最佳猜测是，它与失去儿时的朋友有关，因为他们搬走了或进入了其他圈子。我经常为这种事感到非常难过。
夜深了，我在一条乡间小路上开车，地点可能是在我家乡的郊区。车辆不多，路上只有一两辆车经过。出于一些似乎既不清楚又不可否认的原因，我停车，决定下车步行。我知道我要去哪里。有好几英里远。光是想想就让我感觉累了，但如果只能这样，好吧，不妨开始吧。于是我沿着路肩行走;有好几辆车经过，它们明亮的前灯刺穿了我眼睛，我开始畏缩不前。然后非常奇怪的事情发生了:我趴在路面上，肚子和脸对着柏油路，用我的手和脚轻轻几乎像游泳一样推了一下。我开始向前滑行。我又推了几次，开始移动得更快了，现在就像一个冰球在冰面上滑动。很快，我就在离马路几英寸的地方盘旋，以每小时100英里的速度行驶，夜景在我眼前掠过，我笑得歇斯底里。
在我20多岁的时候，有几年我一直做着这样的梦，或者一些类似的梦，我经常考虑去寻求咨询来解决这个问题。并不是说这是一个噩梦—但这是一个很棒的梦—有一段时间，每周都会做一次这个梦。

Tiffany Umpaz, former Fashion Researcher at Qin Design (2015-2016)
I have it every year. Same nightmare. It’s really a very strange dream. It starts all happy with me as a kid able to fly through the house. I am round 8~10 years old. I am flying like superwoman down the stairs. I see my dad working in his office and my mum walking around. The house I am flying in is very recognizable because it’s the second house my parents bought. We just lived there for a few years. Very odd is that in reallife I am not being able to remember the house in detail but during the dream I am.
Then suddenly in my dream I am in bed try to sleep. It’s very dark. Suddenly I hear a sound like somebody wants to enter my room. The scary part is that at that moment that something scary is going to happen in the dream, I am suddenly very aware that I am dreaming, so I tell my self to wake up. Instead of waking up, the dream begins all over again. This happens like 3 to 4 times until I really wake up. The moment that I notice I am not able to really wake up is so scary! Makes me crazy. My ex BF told me that I wake up shouting aloud like somebody wants to kill me.

我每年都做同样的噩梦。这真是一个非常奇怪的梦。当我还是一个孩子的时候，我能在房子里飞来飞去，这一切都很快乐。我大约8~10岁。我像女超人一样飞下楼梯。我看到我爸爸在他的办公室工作，我妈妈在周围走动。我飞过来的房子很容易辨认，因为这是我父母买的第二套房子。我们只是在那里住了几年。非常奇怪的是，在现实生活中，我不能够记住房子的细节，但在梦里，我可以。。
然后突然在梦中我躺在床上试着睡觉。天很黑。突然我听到一个声音，好像有人想进入我的房间。可怕的是，在梦中即将发生可怕的事情的那一刻，我突然意识到我在做梦，所以我告诉自己要醒来。但是不会醒来，而是重新开始做梦。这种情况会发生3到4次，直到我真正醒来。当我发现自己无法真正醒来的那一刻真是太可怕了！那种感觉让我发疯。我的前男友告诉我，我醒来时会大声喊叫，好像有人要杀我。

When I wake up I have the feeling that the details of the dream quickly float away. I am all sweaty, gasping for air and my heart is beating very fast. One time, I quickly went to take my old photobook to see if the details I remember in my dream about the house are correct. They are.
My parents sadly enough past away and until now I haven’t figured out why I having this very scary repeating dream every year. It’s super strange and makes me worry. I often think that something really terrible has happened and my subconscious wants me to remember but I myself am blocking it.
The whole period that we lived in the small village where my parent bought the house is for me in life a black hole. We lived there for 3 years but I don’t remember that I went to school, I don’t remember my friends and schoolmates. If you ask me how the village looks like I just remember the house, the dentist office and the harbour.
What also is very strange that I always have this dream once a year around autumn.

当我醒来时，我感觉梦中的细节很快就飘走了。我浑身是汗，喘着粗气，心跳得很快。有一次，我赶紧去拿我的旧照片簿，看看我在梦中记得的关于房子的细节是否正确，他们是完全对的上号的。
我的父母不幸地去世了，直到现在我还不明白为什么我每年都做这个可怕的重复的梦。这太奇怪了，让我很担心。我经常认为发生了一些非常可怕的事情，我的潜意识想让我记住，但我自己阻止了它。
我们在父母买房子的那个小村庄里生活的那段时间，对我来说是一个生命中的黑洞。我们在那里住了3年，但我不记得我上过学，我不记得我的朋友和同学。如果你问我这个村庄看起来怎么样，我只记得房子、牙医诊所和港口。
同样奇怪的是，我每年秋天都会做这个梦。