《指尖的隕石泥痕與文藝復興迷宮》

2026年9月24日夢：

早上醒來早了點兒，就打了一個小時的坐，才6點半左右。看看時間還早，就又睡了。

做了一個夢：我的護照快到期了，明天就是截止日。我拿著咖啡色的中國護照，想找人把延期手續辦了。知道是找誰的，是兩位夢裡的老師。但真的找到他們時，卻發現，他們根本不管這一攤的。情急醒來，慶幸！

醒來時間7點50分。

註：關於出境受阻夢

出境受阻夢是我的夢中的一大類，每次都很艱難。

有一次是在崎嶇的路的盡頭忽然有座陡峭的大山直上直下，猶如屏蔽擋在前面。心裡想著只要翻過這山就好了。於是就爬呀爬，爬得精疲力竭。當爬到了山頂正想喘口氣慶賀一下勝利在望時，眼前卻呈現出一片汪洋，無邊無際。

1994年在SU讀書時用鼠標畫的夢境
In 1994, while studying at Syracuse University,
I used a computer mouse to personally draw this very dream scene.

還有一次是排隊過一座跨國界的大橋。要過去的人群擁擠不堪，推推擠擠。橋中有鐵絲網隔開，只留有一個人過的空隙。對方有人把守查看證件放人。天一黑就不讓過了，我也沒過成。

還好這些夢都是在異國做的。醒來暗自慶幸自己已經到達對方了。

2012年9月15日夢：

傍晚，一個人在街上散步，被一個熟人曖昧地帶到一個幽靜的角落。還以為是她向我示好，她卻喊著媽媽開門，原來是她的家。進了屋子，她調了一杯冰涼的飲料遞給我，陶瓷杯很講究，飲料裡有小小黑色的冰莓子。她父母、哥哥和孿胞妹妹（一個小時之差）都很熱情招待我。

用完餐，走到窗前往外一看，原來那是一片高級建築區域，建築都是宮殿式的，街心廣場處的石雕都很漂亮，文藝復興時期的式樣。窗下有條河，城市裡的河，兩邊都是豪華建築。河邊也有一個大石雕塑，一半在水中，仔細看像是一隻趴著的大龍蝦，頭側向遠方。

她帶我出門，還有她哥哥相陪。街上人多繁忙。我們坐在一輛雙層沒頂的像是旅遊巴士上。她哥哥剛下車回家，我就第一個發現有一個比拳頭大、表面凹凸不平的黑糊糊的球帶著煙從天而降。

「隕石！」我指著飛快下衝的球體喊道。

說時遲那時快，接踵而至的隕石由小到大，幾乎都從車旁飛落。有一顆兩個拳頭大小的，直沖我飛過來。我伸出右手一推擋，那球遇我指尖的作用力略微變了方向，朝上擦過，在食指肚上留下泥痕。

「快幫我手指拍照！」我向大夥兒顯示手指上的痕跡。

還來不及拍照，就見大大小小的隕石雨密集地飛落下來，路上已經有幾個大得有車子大小的火球滾過來。司機駕駛著車輛左扭右行，剛剛勉強躲過。路上的火球越來越多，在幾乎沒辦法躲過的時候，車子開進了一個厚篷頂的洞口或是大橋。

安全了，我們融入了人流，街上顯得有點擁擠。很快我的朋友就被擠開了，我大聲問她：「我這是去哪裡？」

去某處，她報了一個國家的名字，好像遠在歐洲與非洲交界處。

「我不要去那裡，我要回上海。」我喊。
「那半路上就下來吧。」被人流隔得漸行漸遠的她跟我揮手告別。
「坐幾路車？」我还問。
「xxxx。」她報了幾個數字，然後說車子就要開了，你趕快去使館辦個手續，就不見人影了。

在和來路相對著有三條路引出不同的去向，在叉路口，來不及考慮、也無法選擇，就被人流裹挾著進入了最左邊的比較寬的一條路。在人群中我到處打聽使館方向。

半路上，有個穿著合體的日本中年女子要我幫她個忙，將她手上的幾張帳單數目加一加。我惦記著找使館，說：「對不起，我沒時間了，知道使館在哪裡嗎？」
她說：「跟我走，我也去那個方向。」

我就跟她去了，我還用日文跟她交談幾句。她帶我在繁忙的街巷裡繞了幾個彎，說先到她辦公室去坐坐。那裡的樓房都很莊重美觀，像文藝復興時期歐洲的建築。在一棟大樓裡走道旁的僻靜處，她將東西往地上一放，看來這就是她的辦公室了。

我忽然感到上當了，抽身就想照原路返回。但就是找不到來路了。推開一扇看似出口的門，卻看到長方形的大屋子里，中間有條窄窄的走道，兩邊坐滿了幹活的人，面無表情的目光看著我。屋子沒有其他出口，退出來後，又在走道裡繞了幾個彎，看似出口的地方都有人在工作，而且都沒有出路。這才覺得我被騙入了一個巨大的迷宮。

在三、四層樓上的樓房一側半開放長廊上往下看，不遠處的街道巷口有幾條大犬，張著血盆大口咬試圖進來的人，連警察也進不來。長廊上也是擁擠不堪的人群中有幾個遛著狗巡邏的人，那些大狗的嘴巴都被繩子綁著張不大。

感覺到有東西擠兌我，低頭一看，一條大狗正用力擠我。我被人、狗擠得懸在了半空、貼著牆壁，還是沒躲開那條狗。我的左手掌靠近小手指處被那條狗一口咬住，死死地不放，被它那鋒利牙齒咬住的感覺都有，很疼。

再轉頭一看，靠牆一遛有幾個人都貼牆懸空站著，同時都被什麼小動物咬著。邊上的那個中年女子對我說，要忍，等到它鬆開時設法逃脫。

忍著忍著，忽然感到那口牙齒在鬆動，彷彿要挪到小指上去，我馬上使勁兒，用力掙脫了那狗，就醒了。

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The Meteorite Mud on My Fingertips and the Renaissance Labyrinth

Dream of September 24, 2026:

I woke up a bit early this morning, so I did meditation for about an hour. Around 6:30 AM, seeing that it was still early, I went back to sleep and had a dream.

My passport was about to expire; tomorrow was the deadline. Holding my brown Chinese passport, I wanted to find someone to handle the extension process. I knew exactly who to look for—two teachers from my dream. Yet, when I actually found them, I discovered they did not handle this matter at all. I woke up in a state of anxiety, feeling thoroughly relieved!

Waking time: 7:50 AM.

Note: The Recurring Blockade at the Frontier

Dreams of being blocked at the border constitute a major category within my dream universe, and every single one of them is an arduous struggle.

Once, at the absolute end of a rugged, treacherous road, a steep, sheer mountain suddenly materialized out of nowhere, standing completely vertical like a massive blockade right in front of me. Thinking to myself that everything would be fine as long as I could just scale this peak, I climbed and climbed until I was utterly exhausted. Yet, the moment I finally dragged myself to the summit, expecting to catch my breath and celebrate victory, an infinite, boundless ocean presented itself before my eyes.

On another occasion, I was queuing up to cross a massive international bridge. The crowd trying to pass through was unbelievably congested, pushing and shoving in complete chaos. The center of the bridge was walled off with heavy barbed-wire fencing, leaving a single, narrow gap just wide enough for one person to squeeze through at a time. Officers stood guard on the opposing side, strictly inspecting documents before letting anyone pass. The moment darkness fell, they shut down the crossing entirely, and I failed to make it over.

Fortunately, all of these exhausting border dreams occurred while I was already living in a foreign country. Upon snapping awake, I would secretly rejoice, comforted by the reality that I had already successfully reached my destination.

Dream of September 15, 2012: 

At dusk, I was taking a solitary stroll down the street when an acquaintance ambiguously led me into a quiet, secluded corner. Just as I assumed she was making an affectionate overture toward me, she suddenly called out for her mother to open the door—it turned out we had arrived at her family home. Stepping inside, she mixed a chilled beverage and handed it to me in an exquisite ceramic cup; the drink was filled with tiny, dark frozen berries. Her parents, older brother, and twin younger sister (born just an hour apart from her) all welcomed me with immense warmth.

After finishing dinner, I walked over to the window and gazed outside. To my astonishment, the house was situated in an elite architectural district lined with magnificent, palace-like structures and breathtaking street plazas adorned with Renaissance-style stone sculptures. Flowing right beneath the window was an urban river, flanked on both sides by luxurious estates. Resting by the riverbank was a massive stone statue, half-submerged in the current; looking closely, it resembled a crouching giant lobster, its head turned toward the distant horizon.

She then escorted me outside, accompanied by her older brother. The streets were bustling and packed with people. We boarded a double-decker open-top tourist bus. The moment her brother stepped off the bus to head back home, I was the very first to spot a dark, uneven sphere—larger than a human fist—streaking down from the heavens, trailing a plume of smoke.

"A meteorite!" I screamed, pointing directly at the rapidly plunging object.

Before the words could even leave my lips, a dense volley of incoming meteorites rained down, growing larger and larger, flying past our bus in a terrifying blur. One particular fireball, about the size of two fists, came hurtling straight toward my face. I instinctively extended my right hand to block it. Upon meeting the force of my fingertips, the sphere slightly altered its trajectory, scraping upward past my hand and leaving a streak of dark mud across the pad of my index finger.

"Quick! Help me take a photo of my finger!" I shouted, showing the physical trace of the cosmos to the crowd on the bus.

Before anyone could snap a photo, an intense, dense rain of meteorites of all sizes bombarded the area. Massive fireballs—some as large as automobiles—came rolling furiously down the streets. The driver twisted and turned the steering wheel, veering left and right, barely managing to evade the destruction. As the fireballs multiplied on the road, making escape mathematically impossible, the bus suddenly plunged into a thick-roofed tunnel or beneath a massive bridge.

Safe at last, we merged back into the pedestrian flow, and the streets grew heavily congested. In the chaotic shuffle, my friend was abruptly separated from me. I cried out at the top of my lungs, "Where on earth am I going?!"

From far away, cutting through the noise, she shouted back the name of a specific country—an area that felt as though it was located right on the frontier between Europe and Africa.

"I don't want to go there! I want to go back to Shanghai!" I wailed.

"Then disembark halfway through the trip!" she yelled back, waving her hand in farewell as the surging human tide swept her further and further out of sight.

"Which bus route do I take?!" I frantically called out.

She rattled off a string of numbers—'XXXX'—and added, "The bus is about to leave! Hurry over to the embassy to process your paperwork!" Then, she vanished entirely.

At the crossroads ahead, three distinct paths diverged from our incoming route, leading toward entirely different destinations. Caught in the bottleneck of the intersection, with no time to deliberate and zero ability to choose, I was violently swept up by the human current and funneled into the leftmost, wider path. Embedded deep within the crowd, I began frantically asking anyone and everyone for directions to the embassy.

Halfway down the road, a well-dressed, middle-aged Japanese woman approached me, asking if I could do her a quick favor and add up the totals on several receipts she was holding. My mind was entirely consumed with finding the embassy. "I'm so sorry, I have absolutely no time," I blurted out. "Do you happen to know where the embassy is?"

She replied, "Walk with me. I'm heading in that exact direction anyway."

So, I followed her, even exchanging a few brief phrases in Japanese. She guided me through a maze of busy streets and tight alleys, turning several corners before suggesting, "Let's stop by my office to sit for a moment first." The buildings in this sector were incredibly solemn and beautiful, perfectly mirroring the historic architecture of Renaissance Europe. Arriving at a quiet, secluded alcove along a corridor inside a massive building, she set her belongings directly down onto the floor—it appeared that this bare patch of floor was her actual office.

A sudden wave of realization washed over me; I felt trickled and deceived. I instantly spun around, intending to retrace my steps and escape. But the path I had come from was completely gone. I pushed open a door that looked like an exit, only to find myself staring into a colossal, rectangular hall. Down the center ran a single, incredibly narrow aisle, flanked on both sides by rows of people working in total silence, turning their hollow, expressionless gazes to stare directly at me. The room possessed absolutely no other exits. Backing out in a panic, I wound through several more turns in the corridors; every spot that resembled an exit was occupied by someone working, and every single path led to a dead end. Only then did it dawn on me that I had been deliberately lured into a gargantuan, inescapable labyrinth.

Looking down from a semi-open, elevated gallery on the third or fourth floor of the building, I spotted several massive hounds guarding the street entrances below. Their jaws were wide open, viciously biting anyone who attempted to enter; even the police were completely barred from getting through. Up on the gallery, the crowd was densely packed and suffocatingly tight. A few patrollers moved through the masses, walking large dogs whose muzzles were securely bound with ropes, preventing them from opening their jaws wide.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy force shoving against me. Looking down, I saw a massive hound forcefully squeezing into my space. Wedged tight between the wall, the crowd, and the beast, I was pushed so hard that I ended up suspended in mid-air, plastered flat against the wall, yet I still couldn't escape the dog. With a sudden lunge, the hound clamped its jaws clean onto my left hand right near my pinky finger, refusing to let go. The physical sensation of its razor-sharp teeth sinking deep into my flesh was terrifyingly real, causing a wave of intense, sharp pain.

Turning my head in agony, I noticed several other people suspended flat against the wall along the same row, each of them being bitten by various small animals. The middle-aged woman beside me whispered, "You must endure it. Wait until its jaws loosen, and then find a way to break free."

Enduring the agonizing pain, I suddenly felt the grip of its teeth begin to shift and slacken, as if it was attempting to reposition its mouth onto my pinky finger. Seizing the absolute fraction of a second, I wrenched my hand back with all my might, violently broke free from the hound's grip—and snapped wide awake.

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirit translation and text refinement.

第三百七十一篇