Hurricanes, floods, tsunamis, earthquakes...In fact, human life and death really don't need such a big scene. Imagine a certain lonely old man who just fell a somersault and quietly returned to the west. The same is true for you and me. Even if you sit on everything, facing death is the same as an ant. From this point of view, there is nothing to be afraid of in the end, but it only adds a form of death, and it is still a magnificent death in the big scene.
34 years ago, people in a city experienced a doomsday scene ahead of time. Everything on the screen was virtual, but the reality was exceptionally cruel, not just because of natural disasters, but even more painful than natural disasters. Sometimes I even think, what is more desperate than the end, if there is, it must be the boundless chaos in people's hearts-it is the real hell. If we can be with the people we love before the end of the day, at least all of this is considered happy, but when we know that we have the possibility of being rescued, we are watched by indifferent people and head toward destruction in immense misery—— This is the most unattainable grief in this world!
Destroyed under such a tragedy, a city, with two hundred and forty thousand people, has no words to clarify the crime. Why do people become so forgetful today? So those "donors" who shed tears under the screen, for whom do they shed their tears? No one really understands the source of these tears, and no one has really done anything for these compatriots who died unjustly. In 1976, this huge number traveled through the historical wind and clouds, and came to people's hearts to disillusion into a bubble. When everything disappeared, all the evils disappeared. Traders are rebuilding the new city on the ruins, the immigrants are flooding, all the tunes are positive, the sun is upright, there is no room for pessimism, and there is no room for doubt... Several
years later, an uncle will make a movie. Selling, celebrating the feast, rejoicing the whole country. Some people make a lot of money. Of course, it is not us. We are common people, the base, the slaves, and the 240,000 people who died. We are not enough.
34 years ago, a city was destroyed by life, and now our souls are being eroded daily-about to be destroyed. And these uncles are happily earning money and are walking towards the pinnacle of their careers. When they turn around and accuse us of having no soul, we have to be respectful--because we need uncles and these uncles to make it for us. Opium and reality are so bitter. So depressed, why not have fun right away?
We are happy, even if we shed tears, and then head towards
destruction, it does not mean rebirth.
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