What is credible? What is untrustworthy?
What is it that you believe in all your life?
I often say to myself that being alive is a depressing experience.
Maybe it's because after the fall of autumn, the void brought by time constantly caused the lack in my heart. No matter how busy my work is, I take up a lot of space for living and thinking with a strong offensive force, but this sense of lack is still there. exist.
Even in a disgusting way, it created a kind of inertia in my mind and body.
"I'm already very tired, why should I think." The
lazy clone was telling me the reason why he could leave the scene. And then put me in constant fantasies about the future.
I've been fantasizing about the feeling of success lately. The feeling of being defined by the world with eager, much-talked-about labels, the excitement of being there and being there. It was the hallucinatory projection of lazy thinking, filling the empty space in my mind.
Isn't the body a crazy machine? And what kind of role can the mind play in the process of the body's automatic operation, so that it can bring emotion and real satisfaction in the heart?
I think that if this transformation process is somewhat experimental, then the emptiness and illusion of this "dream factory" is terrifying.
It's like you are shouting to a corpse that has cooled to get him to stand up;
it's like you are touching an old face in the dark without light; it's
like you are in the experience of sexual life, the constant split of personality .
To create terror for oneself, and to regard this kind of anticipation of the unknown abusive heart as the highest realm of spiritual activity, is itself morbid.
I've been thinking about when I can take a few days off my annual leave and have a run away lately. So I recently bought a favorite camera and picked up the "photography" I learned before, so that I can discover the world presented from my perspective.
But I even started to tire of my constant drooling nausea for new things when a positive life expectancy started to take hold of me. Why do I feel the complex fission of spiritual activities while enduring day-to-day life, and am satisfied with the desire to understand the world brought about by this change? This is totally meaningless. Because behind this desire there is nothing but emptiness and nothingness.
The "self" does not exist in the body.
The conclusion of this thought bothers me a lot. I feel like a person I hate myself. Even I hate and disgust my own inner desires, I hate such empty needs, I hate the disgusting feeling of being out of place that is concealed through the exploration of the unknown and beauty.
It is in such a state of mind that my self-loathing and Yang Dechang's anxiety about the world constitute a strange chemical effect. In Yang Dechang's lens, a world that does not develop according to the ethics of the story, a world without morality, is a collective unconscious, a world without bureaucracy and legal system but equally chaotic.
I think this is the "terror" of "terrorists".
The people in the movie have the same complex divisions in the process of contacting the world as me. In extreme depression and changes, they find "I" and "I" through violence, indifference, escape, wandering, terrorist attacks, deception, patience, and suicide. I" unity.
However, just as I have the most practical understanding of life at the moment, what my inner body, what my body lives and struggles for, does not belong to me, and I don't even know what direction my soul is currently wandering in.
01 Humiliated by exquisite and cruel loneliness
Everyone has a unique and exclusive way of finding pleasure, which is why we feel unbearable and restless about the completely different way of life.
When two completely different ways of life are combined, the way of freely controlling one's own body slowly disappears, that is, the subjectivity of the self disappears. The rich, concrete personality, and the full and turbulent life that the soul longs for is banned by the present binding relationship like two walls.
loss of rights.
Even if he finds a more accommodating and submissive partner like Li Lizhong, his ability to control himself according to his free will will gradually become weak and powerless when faced with the constraints of morality and marriage.
But looking forward to happiness itself is an instinct of human beings. When we instinctively desire to be loved, all limitations cannot stop our capricious attitude towards the living environment.
In order to obtain a deep sense of satisfaction in our hearts, even if this sense of satisfaction is instantaneous and can be gradually forgotten with habit and time, we also have the right to fully seek this kind of interest.
Zhou Yufen, the writer Miao Qianren experimented with in "The Terrorist", is in such a crack, eager to find the thrill of survival.
Here we first discuss a concept, the supreme love in the relationship between husband and wife. This is of course a hoax, like wearing a gorgeous mask to spy on the process of both parties gradually moving from "the beauty of love" to "morbid" self-servitude.
The existence of this supreme love is that you love me, and you pretend to love me very much. There are many factors in this love: the existence of opposition to each other, the dissatisfaction and tolerance of both parties, the running-in and understanding of the details. This is also the process through which marriage promotes each "family" to become an individual existence in society through this binding relationship.
In this coexisting relationship, there are no bad guys because they are all so innocent.
Zhou Yufen couldn't write anything, and said to Li Lizhong, "The closer the deadline, the less inspiration." Hidden behind this sentence is the lack of creativity brought about by the emptiness of life. Constantly looking back and rewriting life is like the antique furniture placed in her home according to her requirements, and there is no possibility of new things.
And the unbearable limit of her nervous system to this kind of emptiness gradually rises, which brings endless depression and anxiety. Find meaning.
But Li Lizhong responded with complete unconsciousness, "How can writing a novel become such a terrible thing."
He was a man working in a hospital, and the cold working environment glowed blue colder than death. Li Liqun's image is also downright cold. Behind this seemingly sanctimonious feature is a huge desire for control, possession and greed for Zhou Yufen. Of course it's almost impossible to find the element of rebellion in the life of an idealist who follows the rules, commutes to get off work on time, and waits for a promotion from his boss.
But through the exposure of extramarital affairs and the fall of his career, his personal space almost changed dramatically because of Zhou Yufen's departure, and the huge immorality hidden behind the moral guard began to draw enough from this completely tragic character story. nourishment.
Whether it is Li Lizhong or Zhou Yufen, through the design of the script, like every character in life, they have that part of their life that they cannot share with others. They can't bear this extremely "sick" inner, the specific and exclusive way of building their own ideal world, the humiliation behind the caring for each other, and the huge spiritual void behind the company, so the way of getting along with each other is not enough. No longer so sacred.
"You still don't understand, you'll never understand, you either misunderstand me or blame me every time. Maybe I'm being unfair to you, but...but I know the life I need.
" When they were sitting in the pantry talking about this passage, I realized the trauma, cruelty, raging helplessness and despair caused by the relationship between the two of them.
Until the end, the story became more and more absurd, Li Lizhong shot himself in the back of the head and fell to the ground, and Zhou Yufen was also inexplicably pregnant, and the game of life could continue and continue. This became a hugely ironic ending. Yang Dechang deals with the relationship between the two with complete indifference and the "alienation" caused by life.
Life is like a tyranny.
02 Ways of Constructing Myself
As mentioned earlier, I recently changed my camera.
Yes. I bought the X-PRO2 from Fuji and it came with a biscuit head.
After receiving the new machine, I started to take a few pictures after installing it. It was as if my vision could be presented and expressed. I'm thinking, starting today, let's go out and shoot. Learning how to look at the world is more important than indulging in the predicament of self-thought.
I envy those who have a unique way of seeing the world, those who can take pictures, just like those who can write, who are able to interpret and recognize their own aesthetics of all kinds of different small things on the outside and inside. It seems that it is their innate mission to dig out some feelings and experiences that others have never experienced.
I adore the existence of the individual being the fully articulated subject, as if I were the master. Through a spiritual escape and artistic escape, it turns out that people can reach the "superego".
In the movie, there is a photographer named Xu Yunde, who records everything he sees through the lens. The film does not focus much on him, but only a few scenes appear, which is enough to explain that he escaped from wealth and comfort through photography, and even escaped from a feeling that was gradually reduced to dullness.
Self-privacy triumphed over public-facing survival, and he chose to roam the streets and rent a remote hut. But even if the wandering life is empty and doing nothing, he can find the passion of existence in it. Rather than a hobby of photography, it is better to describe it indifferently as a passion for the blankness of life.
In the face of meaninglessness, I think, people are more willing to put themselves in a state of long sabbatical and thus fall into a marginalized situation. The passion and thrill of this marginalization is the thrill of freedom.
Yes, he wanders the streets, but his mind is free.
He ran away from love and a wealthy family environment. When we cannot be satisfied with the moment of happiness, each of us will have similar feelings, but when we talk about the real reason, happiness and comfort or dependence on love has become the guarantee of our happy life to a certain extent, so as to be like It is two iron cables that lock the yearning for the outside world. Although the outside world is full of terrorism, there are people who slaughter the streets.
The resistance organized from the depths of his heart gave Xu enough energy to support himself. He makes a living by taking pictures. And can take photography as his serious hobby. The formal presentation of images and beauty has become his belief and superstition.
This inner repulsive force due to youth is also played in another way in Shu'an.
Shu'an lives in a relatively extreme and oppressive environment, due to the broken family and the emotional indifference of her mother, which has caused her to become extreme and play an eternal game of hide and seek with the world.
She continued to play pranks with the legal society. By soliciting business on the streets, she provoked another murder with a knife hidden in her trousers. She also showed the treason and violence that chilled the spine with a particularly decadent and painful gesture.
Such Shu'an did not appear under Shi Xu's lens.
Xu's lens presents his illusion of the world in his own eyes. Shu'an under his lens is the beauty of the shadowy, the beauty of silence. But there was no blood, no presence of the dagger in the cuff of the trousers.
In this encounter and relationship, Yang Dechang gave us a little bit of hope, and he was telling us that kindness can still be trusted at a certain point.
Shu'an's kindness and emotional flow to Xu is the process of her inner moral law overcoming the pathological self-fission. She returned the stolen camera and never offended Xu's personal space again, maybe she knew that her darkness was corrosive and toxic.
And Xu didn't fall into the abyss of sadness that separated after meeting, he just woke up from a dream, as if it was a terrifying experience that made him feel terrified.
Including his cognition of Shu'an and his cognition of the marriage relationship between Li and Zhou, all caused him to distance himself from the free world in his mind. He chose to go home, join the army, and sink into reality.
03 The morbid core hidden
behind kindness Behind others praising your kindness and understanding of life, you will always have an unknown side.
There are two facets of coexistence, and the true extent of your dealings with others is through how you control your own morbid "spasms" and the distance between moral illusions.
This kind of daily self-talk happens frequently.
A friend said to me, why do you always look so sad? And sometimes they are happy. But I can feel that behind my happiness, there are emotions that are different from others.
I've heard people around me say this many years ago. Never before had I known that grief had become my ultimate support in this real world as I matured. If there is no pessimistic consciousness, no observation of the dark aspects of things, there will be no exploration of the ultimate meaning of life, and there will be no real pleasure in thinking.
A netizen also left a message to me recently, the more depressed and sad people are, the more they love their own life.
Of course, I can't say that this view is wrong. I'm not very used to judging things by right and wrong, or good and bad.
I am more inclined to realize that my positivity and embrace of life, and my sensitivity and perception of the negative side of things, form two distinct barriers, but they are not opposed to each other, but often slide from one side to the other.
I can maintain a sense of alienation from others, lest I become stupid by being too happy, and afraid that I'll be mortified by being too sad.
Well, let's dialectically look at the melancholy he told me.
Li Lizhong, just like me, is an honest person in life, in a conventional sense. However, in the final fantasy, he shoots and kills out of desperation and grief.
I was watching Ono's recollection of co-creating the movie script of "Terrorist" with Yang Dechang. In the initial script, Li Lizhong was originally arranged to shoot and kill from the beginning to the end. But because of preserving the most basic goodwill, Yang Dechang changed the ending. Murder is just a symptom, a persecution, and a necessary choice. Between homicide and suicide, Li finally chose suicide.
In his own life, Li Lizhong has always tried his best to be respectable, polite and extremely restrained. But it was the desire for a successful life created by such hard work, the possession of Zhou and the expectation of winning Zhou's love that the final result would appear sad, and Ling Ran felt ridiculous at the same time.
The funny thing is that he also has to show that kind of happy language and expression in front of his closest friends. He doesn't need anything else to help him save from the abyss of life, and he doesn't need the intervention of others.
His tragedies are ultimately his personal tragedies, irrespective of the times and circumstances.
I'm thinking that what Yang Dechang wants to express through Li Liqun's performance is not the background of the times, nor the dirty and ugly of Taipei, but the anatomy and self-examination of his own tragic character.
Wu Nianzhen also said objectively in his memory that Yang Dechang was a director who was unable to educate others and satirize others. All of his work is a deep self-reflection.
"Terrorist" through Li Lizhong's last pair of eyes that fell in a pool of blood, stared at us deeply outside the camera, pushed the plot to a climax and stopped abruptly.
Those of us who are left behind to watch the movie feel the despair, not the despair at the end of the story, but the despair of each of us being pretentious and thinking that we are in control of life, but in fact it will always be the despair of being enslaved by life.
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