The two-month trip to Fellini ended with the roar of the motorcycle team in Rome at night.
Compared to eight and a half films, I think Rome is crazier and more charming. Fellini’s Rome is noisy and chaotic, and everyone lives a contented life. Although the times are changing, the mottle of the Colosseum will not change, and the young people's desire for freedom will not change. The same city has a different interpretation in everyone's memory; we pour all our lives into reinforced concrete marble, and turn attachment into dependence and throw it into the wishing pool. We walked in our own memories, and slowly became a person in the memories.
Rome, Rome.
Fellini is on a pilgrimage here, he has his own bigotry;
Hua Shaotuan has been here, and now I often go back with them;
Elio and Oliver made the promise of findme here, leaving behind a drunkenness and a parting.
Rome. Rome.
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