When there was thunder outside the window, there was a rain of frogs in the movie.
Everyone cursed, everyone was crazy, everyone laughed wildly, everyone wailed. You can't court, you have to abandon it. Should I gnash my teeth or collapse in grief. People who are about to die are good at their words. Confession is pale and weak, forgive the absurd and reluctant. Regret has nowhere to confess, anger is nowhere to sue, love is nowhere to be cast, and scars are nowhere to be solved. He scolded life thousands of times, scolded others and scolded himself, scolded to tears, scolded to spasm in limbs, scolded to frog rain, and frowned with a specious smile.
Every story is not new, every story is close at hand. Those who have abandoned their wives and children seem to be repentant; those who rely on their children to make money are still angry. Put "love" on your lips. "Love" is power, self-protection, threat, and temptation. It is everything except love. The prodigal child was eaten and wiped out by his parents, the daughter of the celebrity was "touched" by his father, and one of them wooed the bartender and stole money and had their teeth. Want to "love" and doubt "love", "love" is the antidote, deception, hope, despair, everything except love itself.
The only son buried his beloved mother, and turned his head to make the "erotic success study" popular; cursing the dying father in every possible way, but crying at the last moment to keep him. Family love is a mystery, love is a mystery. Everyone is indifferent and unsympathetic, everyone is passionate for no reason, everyone prides themselves on God, and everyone falls into the dust. I want to cherish "love" but also want to forget "love". "Love" is a poison, a sigh, a phantom, and a dormant rattlesnake. There is only a thin layer between love and "hate".
Being unclear is one of the characteristics of being born, and the mind is always muddled. Forget your own mistakes, remember the bad of others; forget the hurt of others, remember your own stupidity. In this fucking world, even if no one comes to drive us crazy, we can still ruin our brains independently without relying on external factors.
The most memorable Claudia's eyes are too much like Judy Foster, but they have unresolved sadness and scorching longing. Torturing oneself for the mistakes of others, self-exiled in the psychedelic realm, and unable to stop the eagerness for salvation. But salvation is accidental, and waiting is inevitable. You don’t wake up when you fall, and arteries that don’t open will be patched up. Both self-rescue and his rescue are far away in the foreseeable future. "Love" is a joke, an advertisement, and a myth of the world. Love is something we don't know.
The only certainty is, It's not going to stop, whether we are wise or not, whether we get fucked or fuck ourselves, we still cry and laugh, scold and yell, and then return to the work station with indifference and go back to class , When I go back to work, my wife and children are hot on the bed, casually asking for a white bread mineral water plus three copies of the latest "playboy"
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