That happens to me lots of times when I wake up from a good dream, and it also happens to my life as a whole: from childhood to teenage, from maturity to aging...
All our lives we are searching for something, something perfect, something beautiful, something that touches the innermost of our being, something that makes us feel integral, complete, deep...
Yet most of us never find it, or at best only grasp a glimpse of it; most of us don't even know what the search is after; and even worse, most of us gradually forget about the quest at all during the slowly killing process of mundane living. It faded, it diminished, it drifted out of the reach, darkened, disappeared. Even if we look back, we regard it as something juvenile, naïve , outmoded, laughable.
But what is really laughable and futile is our practical, sensible, adult life, which is ugly, narrow, broken, and goddamn boring.
And only the quest counts, even if we never find, even if we are not sure what the quest is after, don't give up searching.
Whenever the searching ceases, whenever the child/teenager is killed in you, you are dead, regardless you are still breathing or not.
The movie could be better if they didn't find each other. But I'm glad they did.
Good thing only happens in dreams and movies, and that's why we go to cinema.
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