In that crowded and tragic marathon, only that single sperm surpassed more than 200 million brothers and sisters, neither one step earlier nor one step later. How many compatriots have died, they either gave up halfway, or fell into a vortex, or went in the wrong direction; how many disasters were fatal, they were either nitrite, or ionizing radiation, or lead, cadmium, mercury, chromium... …coincidences and crises run through life, even at the beginning. No wonder Woody Allen puts so much emphasis on one word - luck!
Effort is necessary, but I think people are afraid to admit that luck plays a very important role.
The poor boy Chris doesn't like tennis very much, and insists on using this rice bowl to get into the upper class. He wants to eat roast chicken, but he still accepts the Russian pancakes with caviar. The family's married son-in-law hates the claustrophobic environment, and still works as a well-paid white-collar worker in the office. He is not used to high-rise apartments with large floor-to-ceiling glass, and finally lives in this home that makes him afraid of heights...
Chris is Smart, he knows exactly what he wants, and he is not blinded by the unpleasantness in front of him. He understands that without consolidating his position, he is not qualified to talk about personal preferences.
He seemed sane, in front of ambition; he seemed crazy, in front of Nola.
Everything can be hidden and suppressed, but men are animals who think with their lower bodies after all. Nola's sexiness made Chris forget who he was, and he didn't even weigh the pros and cons carefully before he got caught in it.
Sexual pleasure tends to obscure the essence of love.
When your love and my wishes turn into entanglement and persecution, when the gun friend asks for responsibility, and the mistress asks for righting, the exciting beauty begins to disappear. Once women become hysterical, men also start to look hideous.
I never doubted that Chris would end up kicking Nola away, but I didn't expect him to be heartless enough to use a bullet to end Nola's entanglement forever, with his unborn flesh and blood, and his elderly and innocent neighbors as collateral damage.
However, when Goddess of Luck favored Chris again and spared him from the punishment of the law, I was relieved and thankful for the sinful people.
Maybe I think that "good is rewarded with good, evil is rewarded with evil" is too cliché, or the happy ending of a big reunion is not new. I like to watch the luck of the little people, and I like the thrilling plot of life in a desperate situation. But this time, it's not that simple.
It's too much to put to death, but I still think, blame it, Nola is not a smart woman.
The friend disagreed, she said, the child in Nola's womb is innocent, and the tiger venom has not eaten the child.
But each of us is born without cruel competition. Parents don't care, which one of the more than 200 million sperm will eventually survive, any one can be, as long as it is their own child. And in this interlocking coincidence, if there is the slightest mistake in any one of the links, it will not be me who is bathed in the sun now. So many lives may have died one after another, so why care so much about the unborn one. Applying the formation of people to the long tail effect, the unreachable and often overlooked end is the initial appearance.
Besides, should Nola's child really be born? Can you hear the cry of the fetus in the amniotic fluid? It just doesn't have the right to choose! A baby who has not received the blessing of love is just a fleshy bargaining chip, coercing the other party to accompany him into marriage; or a tool to resolve the contradiction between the two parties and rebuild the relationship.
None of this matters anymore.
I just can't forget that scene - Chris rushed into the rain and fell into the wheat field with Nola in his arms...
How could this kind of bravery and beauty come to such an end step by step?
Standing on this end, you can't see the other side, and you can't guess the ending, you can only keep going.
It turns out that life is like an onion.
You can only peel off one of the layers, and
sometimes,
tears.
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