The first half made me even more hopeless. Maybe it was the feeling that the knife was always hanging above my head. It was obviously the island air, but it was always dry. It was summer, but the weather was always like a cloudy day in winter when it was too cold. Those slogans sounded too weak to me, like the final comfort of knowing that I was dying, the willing sacrifice in war was too hopeless.
In the second half of the battle, I felt more numbness. People are not human. It’s only natural that the parting and blood that would normally cry will eventually become numb. In the end, I was enveloped in this damn atmosphere and became numb, no matter what. The end will come soon. Destroy it, destroy it, I have forgotten everything that is alive, and my world is only gray. Give it a good time anyway, I really can't see any color anymore. I'm so desperate just feeling the atmosphere of the movie, it's hard to imagine how desperate a real war would be.
What I'm talking about is that any war is so desperate. Why have there been countless such desperate wars, and why do people still like to divide camps between people even though they don't know each other, and the smoke is everywhere?
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