Of course not to kill people, but we know how to sacrifice: sacrifice talent for a degree, sacrifice time for money, sacrifice body for status, sacrifice personality for opportunity. We know the unspoken rules of going through the back door, stuffing red envelopes and hitting white. We know that the rules are made by a few people. We look at the glitz and sneer while embracing them eagerly. We have learned the cruel modern jungle rules since we were sensible.
I understand the inferiority complex, and I understand the feeling that sometimes I want to love and sometimes kill the other person.
No one cares about the self-esteem of the little man, so the little man has to climb up hard until the people who look down on him are under his feet.
We are unscrupulous, because the world is fucking natural inequality.
Therefore, when I saw Ripley put on Dick's clothes and was bumped by myself while dancing proudly, I felt more embarrassed and embarrassed than Ripley himself. We are envy and covet the so-called upper-class society. We are extremely close and tolerant to wealthy and powerful friends. Don't you dare to say that you don't want to get the glory of 24k? In your heart, you never secretly imagined trying on your friend's new Paris Fashion Week coat once?
As for the two lovers who were sacrificed-God bless them. For the little guy, how to get rid of the corrupt smell of the basement is the first mission of life. If the price of wearing Chinese clothes and tasting wine and basking in the Mediterranean sun is to give up love, which little person will not rush to it? As for the so-called unswerving death, forget it, it is the embellishment of desserts after the rich and leisurely class have eaten their food. What they want is the poignant feeling of melting quietly in the sun. As for us, let us pack the desserts and take out, which happened to save another meal and dinner.
View more about The Talented Mr. Ripley reviews
