Perhaps the reality is exactly that. The tragedy in life will not happen because of good weather or happy events. Strangers can always only watch indifferently, and the blood and tears of witnesses can only wipe the body of destiny more glamorous. Talk about a tragedy easily, like the scorching sun on the Mediterranean Sea, stabbing your eyes, and the blindness in the white dazzling darkness.
The scene of making love, the scene of kissing, there is no way to make ripples in my heart. It is deduced as a routine that is generally faced every day when eating. Even the teardrops seemed to be tasteless like water. It's just that the whole narrative, which is deep and shallow, will eventually be broken up by the impermanent sigh of fate.
A few memorable passages:
Paragraph 1: Lena rushed into Martel’s room, Martel turned her back to her, but faced her on the screen. They faced Martel at the same time. This was the first time Lena truly had the courage to face Martel and challenge all lies. Everything reversed suddenly, and Mattel's front and back were being watched at the same time. Does it mean that as long as you dare to face those peeping eyes in the dark, they will be exposed to the light and become the focus of anti-peeping. And they are so shallow that they can be easily seen through.
Paragraph 2: Every bone of Lena under X-rays is accurately presented to the audience on a gridded film. Beautiful person, her tragedy is that she is unable to control her freedom, has no privacy in her body and mind, and is not respected. But even if every arc of her bones is peeped by others, you are still so far away from her heart and her sorrow. The soul cannot be possessed by anyone in any way.
Paragraph 3: When Judit poured out 14 years of confession in front of her son and Harry in the bar, her tears were obviously too weak and weak compared to the injuries suffered by Harry who lost her beloved for many years. Up. But when she watched Harry walking down the stairs alone in the dark with a blind cane, watching the injuries suffered by her former lover, the depth of the conscience was truly conveyed. Many times, our sorrows are endured by others. . . . . .
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