sun is still dazzling, even if the temperature is a little less.
I took my own sandwiches, went to Mazarrin for a picnic, and watched the long-awaited movie - Biutiful.
To be honest, it can't be called a story.
Because in fact, it does not explain anything, because in fact, it has no so-called ending.
My head is full of question marks, but I can't ask questions, because this is life.
Every picture is desolate, and if there is joy, it is also in the yellowed photo.
In the face of life, embattled on all sides, choices are forced.
But your choice, when you make it, is not just you alone, and unforeseen consequences will always come unexpectedly.
Looking at the familiar body, did they really leave? How can we who are reluctant to part with them know how much they reluctant to part with us?
People who have left their hometowns, left for a better return, right?
But there was no more audio.
Dreams and hopes are just day after day, year after year of unintelligible life turned into fantasy, and then, living has become the only persistence.
And in the end, with the initial memory of the silent death.
The colors and pictures of the film are always rich, and it is inexplicably kind to see the places I have been to appear in the film.
More like a documentary than a movie.
"Don't forget what you once had. Cherish what you can't get. Don't give up what belongs to you. What you have lost, keep it as a memory."
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