I strongly urge everyone to take a look at the film version, which is actually a video of the performance of the "London Life" theater. It is a very wonderful one-man show, basically the same as the plot of the first season, but the conflict is more concentrated.
Dignity can be closely linked to survival. Self-esteem in her is sex, the straw that she has to grasp even if she has nothing.
Since Loo's death, her world has been falling apart, and she has lost more and more things. Friendship ended. Of course, Loo couldn't understand and forgive her before she died. The family relationship was broken. After her mother died, her father couldn't understand her inner world. Even her sister said, how can I believe you? After you did something like that to Loo ? Her love was originally absurd, and as precarious as a cafe, more often in a funny way with Harry, who couldn't even give her quiet, focused sex. Lushui lovers have their own concerns, and here she only asks for it. No matter how polite she is, she strokes her hair the next morning, stares into her eyes, and sincerely thank her, after anal sex with her without authorization. disillusioned. Her life is a real mess and nothing can control it.
This is an experience in which the world has nothing to do with itself , and indifference and helplessness are just pale shells. Seeing that she could not keep the cafe, she watched helplessly and hurt the hamster. She can't seem to stop others from misunderstanding her. Her sister, brother-in-law, and father have bad comments on her. Boyfriends and friends always bring harm.
She can say funny and irrelevant words, make exaggerated expressions, and constantly pursue new sexuality, but in her self-evaluation system, she mentions the flaws and weaknesses that are constantly confirmed, amplified, deepened and solidified. very little. The only time she talked about it was when she had nowhere to go and knocked on her father's door in the middle of the night, she looked forward to the warm understanding of her father's love, even if it was vague support. But the conversation went on here, and it was another disillusionment:
-I have a horrible feeling that I'm a greedy, perverted, selfish, apathetic, cynical, depraved, mannish looking, morally bankrupt woman who can't even call herself a feminist.
-(He just looks at me)Well, uh… You get all that from your mother.
She describes herself as a greedy, perverted, selfish, indifferent, cynical, depraved, morally depraved, man-like woman who doesn't even deserve to call herself a feminist.
This confession shows a deeper sense of crisis in her predicament - a very low self-evaluation. This low self-esteem level has trapped her in a hopeless swamp. In the emptiness, and the day after day setbacks and blows, she was getting worse and worse, "fucked her life" in her words.
The absurdity of human nature is that a person's self-evaluation can go down and down in a totally unjust, purely subjective way , like she seems to forget how beautiful, attractive and interesting she is.
What's even more ridiculous is that even though she blocked all the exits and was in a hopeless and lonely situation, she still did not let go of the last straw - sex.
All she owns is her body.
The theatrical version has this long monologue:
What if I wrote that I fucked that cafe into liquidation? That I fucked up my family? That I fucked my friend by fucking her boyfriend? That I don't feel alive unless I'm be fucked? I don't feel in control unless I'm fucking 'cause fucking makes the world tighten around me. And I know that my body, as it is now, really is the only thing that I have. And when that gets old and unfuckable, I may as well just kill it.
And then, sometimes, I wish that I didn't even know that fucking existed 'cause, somehow, there isn't anything worse than someone who doesn't wanna fuck me. That I fucked everything.
But this time, this time, I really wasn't… I genuinely… Either everyone feels like this a little bit… and they're just not talking about it or I am completely fucking alone? which isn't fucking funny.
We all need self-esteem and acceptance of ourselves in order to understand our relationship with the world as an individual. Self-esteem is the bridge between the self and the external world. People are very different, not only because people see the world differently, but people build their self-esteem on all kinds of things, which is ridiculous.
In the play, her self-esteem level has bottomed out, and sex is her last connection with the world, and her only remaining self-esteem .
She said: "The only thing I have is my body, and if one day it's too old to have sex, I can kill myself. Sometimes I wish I never knew what sex was, because there's nothing like it No one wants to fuck me worse."
One-sided theater and uninterrupted, hindered life are extreme situations, but they burst out with a one-shot force.
She can't talk about protection anymore, she has lost a hand of cards, and the last card is only sex, but she can't let go no matter what. Such pure paranoia is like the memory box that Hao Lei wanted to leave behind in "Spring Tide", as if the space and reason for the existence of the whole person are pinned on it.
What makes human nature even more absurd is that even desperate people want to give their self-esteem a reason, so obsessed they want to materialize it into a tangible box, or solid, uninterrupted sex, it's a lie who? Not to reassure yourself.
People who are in peril and panic all day have more courage to defend a false thing. It is this humble sense of security. When the only dignity and power are taken away, the world will all collapse.
Maybe nothing in itself is a kind of confidence.
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