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A Survey Report on Sleepwalkers —— Case 1: The World is False

2065438+read at 02:24 on August 26th, 2005 16333

Investigation report on sleepwalking patients

The first case: the world is fake.

I used to work in a newspaper. During that time, I interviewed many sleepwalkers in order to do a special investigation report on sleepwalking. Medically speaking, sleepwalking is a kind of sleep disorder, which mostly occurs in the deep sleep stage of the third to fourth stages of sleep, that is, within 2 to 3 hours after falling asleep.

When sleepwalking, patients can get up from bed and walk around the house as if awake, sometimes even walking outside the house and wandering aimlessly in the street. Without the influence of external force, most patients usually don't wake up when they sleepwalk.

Under normal circumstances, after some sleepwalking, patients will go back to bed as if nothing had happened. During the whole process, the patient was asleep. Woke up the next morning, the sleepwalker knew nothing about last night's sleepwalking behavior and was not told by others.

The first sleepwalker I interviewed was a 35-year-old male chef. He is different from the chef I remember. His head is not big and his neck is not thick. On the contrary, he is thin and somewhat bald, but he looks elegant.

The interview was held in his restaurant. He cooked me a medium-rare steak that day.

I sat opposite him across the dining table, and the whole restaurant was beautifully decorated, giving people the feeling of eating in a high-end western restaurant.

I cut a small piece of steak with a knife, and the brown gravy overflowed from the incision. I slowly put the meat into my mouth with a fork and chewed it gently. Throughout the process, I noticed that the chef kept looking at me with expectant eyes.

When I chewed up a small piece of beef in my mouth and swallowed it, he said, "How does it taste?"

I nodded and replied politely, "Well, this is the best steak I have ever eaten."

Seeing the chef smile, that smile is not pride, but a kind of ... weird ambiguity. I was thinking, this guy is not gay, is he?

I said, "Can we get started?"

The chef nodded his head.

I asked, "When did you start sleepwalking?"

The chef shook his head and said, "I don't know, many times." If you want to say it, it started about a year ago. "

Me: "How do you know you are sleepwalking?"

The chef shrugged and said, "My wife found out that there was a celebration in the hotel where I worked that day, so I came home from work very late. When I got home, my wife had fallen asleep. I took a bath, went to bed and fell asleep soon. After a while, I was awakened by my wife's scream. When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying in the kitchen inexplicably, taking the chicken out of the refrigerator and making a kung pao chicken. "

Me: "You mean, you sleepwalk into the kitchen to cook in the middle of the night?"

The chef nodded and said, "My wife heard the sound of cooking, went to the kitchen and saw me working alone in the kitchen. She called me several times, but I didn't promise, so I was very angry and came over and patted me on the shoulder ... "

Me: "You said ... you were awakened by your wife's scream. Why is she screaming? "

The chef said, "Because he saw me chopping vegetables with my eyes closed. She was frightened by my state. After listening to her words, I was also very scared and went to see a psychiatrist. "

Me: "What did the doctor say?"

The chef said, "The doctor said I was under too much pressure. I just needed to relax my pressure and let me not be too serious. My wife and I went home."

Me: "Has this symptom ever happened again?"

The chef nodded: "A month later, I sleepwalked again. This time my wife just worked overtime and was not at home. "

Me: "Then how do you know you are sleepwalking?"

The chef said, "I went out this time."

Me: "You mean, out of the door?"

The chef nodded: "I dressed myself, went outside and got a beating ..."

Me: "Wait, how do you know you called?"

The chef said, "I have an extra taxi receipt in my pocket, which coincides with the time."

I gave a "Oh" and motioned for him to go on.

The chef said, "I don't know the details anyway." Anyway, when I woke up the next morning, I was in the hotel where I worked. "

Without thinking, I said, "Go cook?"

The cook nodded and said, "You are so clever."

I "ha ha" twice.

The chef went on to say, "The next morning, I was woken up by my colleague. When I woke up, I was sitting alone in the back kitchen of the hotel with a plate of unfinished steak on the table. "

I took a deep breath and said, "It seems that your symptoms are very serious."

The chef said, "Yes! Then I went to see a doctor. However, doctors don't know how to treat sleepwalking. He gave me some medicine to promote sleep and so on. I took it for more than a month and it really worked. This symptom has never been committed again. "

I said, "That's good. However, I really want to ask, what did you dream twice? "

The chef shook his head and said, "When I woke up, I didn't remember." He looked at the steak on my plate. "Come on. It's not delicious if you don't eat cold. "

Out of politeness, I quickly took a few bites of steak on my plate.

At this time, the chef suddenly looked fixedly, and his tone was very neurotic: "This world is fake."

I froze, I didn't know what he was saying, so I just looked at him for a while and said, "Huh?"

The cook smiled vaguely and said, "I mean, we are sleepwalking now."

I can't help feeling chilly in my back, and I don't know what to say.

The chef seemed to read my mind and said, "You have asked me so many questions, so I will ask you one."

I said, "Ask."

The cook said, "How do you know that you are not dreaming at the moment?"

I was fooled by his question at once. What's the problem? Is the chef already a philosopher? Or, a crazy chef who wants to be a philosopher?

I said, "Anyway, I know I'm not dreaming now."

The cook said, "Do you know you are dreaming when you dream? In other words, usually when you dream, you don't question the dream. You think it's true. "

I'm stupid. What he said is so reasonable that I am speechless.

I hesitated and said, "Reality is always more real than dreams. I really didn't know I was dreaming in my dream, but when I woke up, I knew it was a dream, because there were too many bugs in the dream, which was not true enough. "

The cook said, "How do you define truth? Do you call what you see, hear, smell, taste, touch and experience real? "

I said, "Isn't it?"

The chef said, "There is a very simple example. We all learned the idiom "sit on a well and watch the sky" in primary school. A frog sits at the bottom of the well and looks up at the sky. It thinks the sky is only as big as the wellhead. In other words, for frogs, a genius as big as a wellhead is real. "

I seem to have fallen into his trap, but I still can't help being trapped: "What do you mean?"

The chef said, "I mean … if you haven't seen the truth, how do you know what it is like?" ? If you walk under an apple tree, the apple will not fall, but fly to the sky. You have seen such a scene since you were a child, and you will think that it is true that the apple flies to the genius, but it is false that the apple falls to the ground. "

I was completely defeated by him: "I still don't understand what you are trying to say."

The chef smiled vaguely and said, "So, maybe we think we are awake, but we are actually dreaming;" We thought we were in a dream, and that dream was the real world. "

I was a little dizzy by what he said, and I didn't want to continue talking about this topic, so I immediately opened the topic and said, "By the way, why didn't I see your wife this weekend?"

The chef said, "She works overtime today."

I felt I had to leave here, got up and said I had something to leave.

The cook didn't stop me and sent me to the door.

Suddenly the chef said to me in an ambiguous tone, "Actually, our discussion is not over yet."

I smiled and said, "This is just an interview."

The chef said, "Do you like barbecue?"

I don't know why he asked, but I nodded subconsciously.

The chef asked, "Is the kebab necessarily made of mutton?"

I froze.

The chef asked, "So the world must be real?"

When the cook finished eating, he turned and closed the door.

A week later, I saw the news that the chef was arrested and accused of killing his wife.

He dismembered his wife.

I suddenly remembered the penultimate sentence that the chef said to me-must the kebabs be made of mutton?

Yes, I ate a whole plate of steak at the chef's house that day.

Same, same, same.