I can do it

Watching my favorite movie "The Adele Hugo Story" again. what is love? She doesn't understand, and neither do you. The Bible says that love is patient and kind; it believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love is never ending. But in this world, love has long since become more than pure, it has become more of a value judgment, measurement standard, tool and proof. Who else can pursue love as a belief? Adele Hugo? She traveled across the ocean just to find her lover; she was so infatuated that she had to die to read.

Thinking of the poems you recited in the shaded classroom in high school, the camphor tree outside the window has fragrant wood sandalwood, and in the sunshine and breeze, you gently recite: "May you have one heart, and the white head will not be separated." Once, looking at his ancient poetry book beside him, he copied one of the sentences: "My beloved belongs to me, and I also belong to him." I thought, maybe at this moment, my beloved belongs to me, and I also belong to him. You also once believed in Yeats' poem: When you are old, your hair is gray, and your sleep is drowsy. Someone once loved your pilgrim soul. But when a woman is old and sleepy, no one loves her soul. No one loved her devastated face. Talking about the soul, all the world needs is a youthful body. If you want to find a partner, you'd better bring your own garage, preferably have a parent who is a high-ranking official, and at worst have a Beijing hukou. So sober and clear, like Peng Haoxiang, saying that love and desire to live and die are nothing but broken things. He also said that there are not many saints in the world, and most of them are sluts who help each other. Had Adele been born in modern times, she might have been one of the women in "Sex and the City," smiling softly with a hint of disdain at the corner of her mouth: Welcome to the age of impurity. There is no breakfast at Tiffany's anymore. We hurriedly finished breakfast at 8 o'clock and rushed to work. The sooner the affair of the previous night was forgotten, the better. "No one told her that love would end in Manhattan. But I think she'd be good." You think, L was right. Although she despised your innocence and hypocrisy, you despised her promiscuity and frivolity. Facts have proved that the love of classicism is outdated, and we live more in the era of American TV dramas than in classical poetry. So she is like a duck to water, and you are disappointed and disappointed. On the bumpy long-distance bus that summer, he said in your ear: "I'm still young, and I want to play more." Outside the window is the rich sunshine of Southeast Asia, the wound on your arm is burning, but you are drinking snow water in winter. . You can't play anymore because you're too serious and don't play by the rules of this world. Anyway, I quit. I woke up at night and remembered a verse from the Bible: There is none righteous, not one, but I believe that I will still be forgiven and redeemed. Then turned around and went back to sleep.

One night with 33 to talk about Adele Hugo. 33 said that in that era, when there was no job, Adele's way of proving herself was to find a feeling of "this only I can do". But if she's living in the modern age, emotion isn't the only way she can prove herself. She puts her passion and strength in the things she loves, and she becomes a famous writer, or a successful career woman. But is it just the times? Or the reason of the kingdom? Every generation complains about not being born in the best of times, or being born in a conservative country. In the same conservative Victorian era, there were Jane Austen who chose to write or Miss Potter who chose to paint. But Adele was wrong from the beginning.

Back to that day, I walked a long way to the French Cultural Center. Except for a few staff members, you sat with him in the empty cinema hall, watching "Street Documentary Short Film" together, and your mind was floating. Later, you went to Broadway again, and after the classmates who watched "A Chinese Ghost Story" together left, you watched the movie again in the library on the second floor alone. This time you finally see it clearly, the Indian painter inside said, "I've never treated a woman like this. But I'm like this with painting". He also said, "If there's a heaven, it's here -- you made yourself." Later, you wrote, the feelings you were looking for, if you didn't have them, forget about it. If there is a heaven, it is here - you made yourself.

So the lines should be like this, tragedy can become comedy: It's incredible, a young girl, crossing the sea, from her hometown to a whole new world, just to do what she loves. I can do this. I can do this.