The overall tone is confused and absurd. Every now and then there's a good moment of sparkle, when you love it to death. But in the next moment, the cruelty revealed inadvertently makes you hate him to the bone. But no matter how hurt you are, you still don't want to leave. In dreams, in hallucinations, in the last moments of life or in the depths of your subconscious, what you long for most is it, just hoping that ordinary afternoon can become forever. Because you know, it shapes you, it is all you have, and without it you are nothing, nothing.
Such is life, and so is family.
Despite all the pain, you can't give up your life easily. Whether it's bereavement or romantic disappointment tormenting you, life has to go on because you believe there will be a turning point in the future.
You hate the person who is connected to the blood, you can fly away, but you can't remove the traces of family on you. The man who is polite in front of people and beats his wife and children when he closes the door, or the mad old man who catches and bites whoever is bitter, you used to be determined not to be that kind of person, but you are frustrated to find that not only is your red hair He betrayed you with his big belly, and even the subtle movements when he was excited became more and more like him.
You know that fate has no ill will against you, and that the misfortunes inflicted on you are neither punishment nor discipline. You have no one to complain about, no one to hate, so you can only hate yourself.
And hurt from family members is often an odd mixture of love and hate.
I don't know which hurt is more cruel, but both are the same, a curse that you can't escape as a human being.
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