John, Esser, and Mariana, there is always the most vulnerable corner of the triangle that collapses first, and the remaining two also lose their happiness and love. This is not a new theorem, but every interpretation is inevitably heartbreaking. In the slow or even freezing shots, there are not too many emotional storms of ups and downs, but the endless cornfields, the snow pastures stretched by the ruts, the large groups of clouds stroking overhead, and the endless birds calling insects. Ming... everything is so calm, plain and even flat. Marianna shed tears and said to John after intense sex: "This is our last time, because peace is stronger than love."
Hard things can always be destroyed, tyrannical emotions can always be vented, but peace is encountered. There is nothing we can do. There is no beginning, no end, no sign of coming, no traces of drowsiness, just like the damp air in a rainy day, unknowingly leaving mildew stains. Pain, biting in my heart, forcing people to the edge of collapse. However, the crying bitterly still could not break the innocent silence, and even death quietly left without help. Esser, who was lying in the white coffin, moved his throat and opened his eyes, with tears from his rivals still on his cheeks. The exquisite daughter said softly and charmingly who came to the funeral, who was dressed neatly... The eyes of indifferent life reopened, as if it was really just a long sleep, but it was not the one who kissed the princess. Prince.
A film without a soundtrack will inevitably make people look back and feel sad. "I'm cold, John" Esser fell into the torrential rain after saying this. The blue umbrella rolled awkwardly a few times, but did not roll up with the wind. There is no music and stress, no slow motion and close-up. We didn't know that it was the last sentence of the injured wife's life, "I'm cold, John" until the doctor hugged the howling husband in the white ward. But at this moment, the lush green fields in the distance were still reflected on the windows, bright and unconscious. What could be more cruel than this? What could be more invincible than this?
If the sky is sentimental, the sky is also old, and the sky and the earth endure because they are ruthless. In the twilight cage on the vast wilderness, the last Xia Fei is like a silk thread, the night once again closes the world, the birds have fallen asleep, and the insects are constantly singing...
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