The first time I watched "Fallen Angels" was in a thin and trance high school. The strong colors, the shaking lens, the sad music like a dream, the distorted world under the short-focus and wide-angle lens, like Lin Xi's lyrics, gorgeous and empty. The rushing night train outside the window carries a carriage of lights to the eternal unknown. Everyone is longing for the warmth of embracing, everyone's eyes are crossed with everyone, but they only pass by. On the long submarine road, she put her face on his shoulder, the motorcycle was speeding, she said, this minute, she felt so warm. In the little script I wrote myself, the lonely male protagonist, his TV is always playing this scene of the movie, the man and the woman are riding a motorcycle quickly on the lonely road, he looks like When Li Jiaxin had sex with himself as lonely as he was, the two lonely men and women on his TV were still running endlessly on the long road. She masturbated on the bed where his temperature had been ironed. pity yourself. Lonely. What a sad word masturbation is, even the orgasm is full of despair. Loneliness, inability to be loved, shame, the quickest and weakest consolation. Everyone desires to enter the souls of others, but everyone only enters their bodies. And when the warmth of another body cannot be possessed, there is nothing to appease the soul. After the passion, there is nothing but emptiness. Tears washed the eye shadow into a landscape-like ink color, and he would not see her sadness and her loneliness. how far. A distance apart from a jukebox. A turning distance apart. Like three lives. Who is singing, who is watching. Forgetting him means forgetting everything, throwing away Fang and Xiang and losing yourself. To forget him is to forget the joy, and to lock the heart together with the pain. He has always been the only one who can make me appreciate myself, and let me use love to make all ordinary things beautiful. Forget him, how can you afford to forget it, unforgettable to remember it forever, from now on forever... The name of the song is forget him, he wants her to forget, when he hears it, he always remembers it. Karen Mok dyed her hair a strange golden yellow. She said, I want everyone who has seen me not to forget me. In "Rhino in Love", Ma Lu said that forgetting is the only thing ordinary people can do, But I decided not to forget her. There are always people who say that forgetting is for better remembrance, but what is remembrance for? When you've lost that person, that time, those emotions, memories, and forgetting all become a posture of weakness that can't be found anywhere. And that is my way. When he bowed his head, those shadows could finally be invisible. When the lips are closed, the heart is singing and speaking. Make strange expressions in the mirror, like a perverse and autistic child. And finally he is still writing here, like He Zhiwu talking nonsense to the audience without knowing what to say, but the person in the picture can't hear a little bit of his inner voice. To speak or not to speak is such an important problem. In "Chongqing Forest", Jin Chengwu uses English, Japanese and Cantonese to find a girl named Amei, but there is no language that can make him find his place in others' hearts; Tony Leung talks to towel soap shirts, as if they are more compatible with Listeners who understand each other; in "Fallen Angels", communication is so difficult, how many words can a single coin carry; Takeshi Kaneshiro has become a mute who can't speak, just trying to "get sparks" with others, rubbing his head with blood Liu also spared no expense, and the world was still as noisy as before, silent as before, unable to hear any words he said. Can't hear anything we say. I saw the building opposite was brightly lit, one by one, with warm golden lights, I would love it so much at this time, like what a beautiful glass toy. Every cell is filled with people walking, eating, sleeping, excreting, arguing, and having sex. Just my imagination. Is there anyone there who looks at my building as I look at it? Like Faye Wong sneaking into Tony Leung's house to peep at his life, like Li Jiaxin tidying up Dawn's room and looking for his recent whereabouts in his rubbish. We need to peep, we need to be spied on, we need a hole in our life that spills something and devours something. When you are being watched, you can feel your own existence; when you are watching, you can feel the existence of your own eyes and obscene little soul. Peeping is nothing but a search. In the folds of time, we have already lost ourselves and others. So everyone is paranoid, searching aimlessly in this world. Who is Jin Maoling? where? When? hehe. Where there is my lover, there is my enemy. I prepared a backpack of poison and wine, but I couldn't find anyone to drink with. What are you looking for, in the end, even yourself forgot. There is only the warmth of a lonely moment in the lonely embrace of the motorcycles on the long road at the end, and the questioning is fruitless, and everything is in vain. And that is my way.
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