Just like a documentary filming the last day of the life of a dying person with a sophisticated lens, the lens is completely aimed at a melancholy and deep-eyed man. He used to be an alcoholic. After divorcing his wife in New York, he was treated for six months in a rehabilitation facility in Paris. He was lingering in bed with his lover, but his expression was melancholy. He refused his lover's stay and returned to the rehabilitation facility. He doesn't want to leave the rehabilitation facility. He wants to lock himself in a room to collect briefings about death and suicide, write a diary, observe himself in the mirror, and being in a closed room is his most comfortable time. But the doctor told him to leave, his alcohol addiction was quit, he recovered from his illness, and he should go out and reintegrate into the crowd. So he met a friend who studied Egyptian culture and Jewish theology. The friend had a happy family and his greatest interest in life was writing and having sex with his wife. He told of his bad life, and the comfort of his friends did not work and even made him disgusted. People who fail face success and friends who have a happy family will always have waves in their hearts. Then he met Jeanne Moro, who was very amorous, and the two recounted the old days. He had a dispute with the drug-addicted poet. As a person who had been addicted to alcohol, he advised others to quit drugs, but the poet refused with a noble attitude. His kindness. What happened to this world? He sat on the side of the road and watched the pedestrians coming and going. He drank the first glass of wine after he successfully stopped drinking, painful and enjoyable. He attended a dinner with friends. After the meal, he began to show courtesy to the female guests. This is what it looks like after drinking. Friends commented on him. Obviously, he once caused a lot of trouble for his friends after drinking. He began to fall into mania uncontrollably, complaining that he was no longer attractive, no longer able to pick up girls, no lover, no money, and lost the feeling of touching with his hands. He couldn't feel the truth, he couldn't feel himself and others, he broke the glass of wine, he hated wine, but wine is the only truth. He vents himself to his friends on the side of the road. He wants the love of others, he wants someone to surround him, he wants to love others, but the addiction to melancholy and loneliness cannot be quit, just like giving up alcohol. . He went back to the room, sorted his clothes, shaved off his beard, and put on clean white pajamas. This was a ritual before death. The muzzle was pressed against his chest and he gave up his alcohol addiction.
I committed suicide because I didn't love you, because you didn't love me, because our relationship became cold. I committed suicide to strengthen our relationship and leave you with indelible pain.
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