I forgot it was a few years ago, I remember sitting by the narrow bed, repeatedly gesturing my left wrist with a knife, with guilt about death, nostalgia for life, and suspicion of cutting my wrist, I sat for more than two hours until I had the courage to cut my wrist. There was a blood mark, I felt pain, and the whole sadness turned into tears, and that kind of real existence made me no longer foolish. I found that the pain in the body can transfer the pain in the heart, I am just afraid of the pain.
Later, I searched for the keyword "cut wrist" and came across this movie. During the several minutes of preparation and execution of the wrist cuts at the beginning of the film, I cried, and cried. The beginning of the film is as plain as every morning when I wake up, without struggle or hesitation, just like this, a pool of blood spreads slowly and quietly. The flowing rich dark gray smudged open along the crack of the door, pulling out pieces of despairing cloth.
That picture can be redeemed.
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