Sandoval, immune to those worldly perceptions

Sandoval, this world has made him rotten. In a stronghold closest to justice, the farther away from justice, he relies on the anesthesia of alcohol to seek a trace of survival pleasure and male hormones. Everyone is objectifying their expectations for life, and the helplessness in the face of reality always makes us avoid the shell and dare not face it, and choose various escapes. Generally speaking, one of the most stupid things people do is to go too far. To prepare for a rainy day in life, he is either fantasizing and stimulating in various anesthetics, or comforting his future. When Sandoval's future ends, all he can choose is spirits.
In the tavern, the memories there gave him enough sense of security. The memories and memories after anesthesia made him not obsessed with reality, but indulged in the past. When he was young, he was able to arbitrarily provoke his opponents, whether it was life or work. And he was showing off his moral honor, but when he was in his sixtieth year, the reality made him realize that justice is just a doll of a group of people in power, and his work is just constantly changing masks to flatter his superiors and beg for a little living space. His life expectations have not been realized, and he can only live in a semi-conscious state. The most worthy of my admiration is that he bought wine with all his salary, built his own siege, and no one can destroy the world he built. Secular speech is the moral shackles that this modern civilization puts on everyone, and he pursues objectification. One's own life, half-consciously fighting against others, and immune to those other people's opinions.
In the end, he enjoyed the greatest meaning of existence in a fully awake state, serving as a bullet for his friends. It was a win-win for Benjamin and Sandoval, and perhaps the moment he was shot was the moment he enjoyed the most, and his life was no longer empty enough to survive on alcohol. And the most worthwhile thing that can be done for the only friend is to enrich Benjamin's life to seek answers, to break through his own predicament to face the sealed passion.
Sandoval described his youth in the pub. I recalled my youth, and I was glad that there were not too many themes in my youth: I played football when I was eighteen or nineteen, so it has been five or six years, which is quite a long time ago. matter.
I often think, at best five or six years, can it be called a long time? In my current life, it is a full one-fifth, minus the three years of vague childhood memories, then it is half of my life. The era when Queen's Park sang "We Are the Champions" and Ricky Martin sang "The Gold Cup of Life" -- the order is a bit reversed, but it was that era anyway -- it was a long past, but I can't remember it. Similar to novels, or rather, novels are similar to memories.

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