Billy lost his mother when he was a child, living in a difficult life, rough father and brother, grandma immersed in his own world. The teenager is often in inexplicable anxiety, he is depressed and lonely.
He is eager to grow.
Because a precocious teenager who is sensitive by nature is well aware of the panic brought about by age-when he exhausts his strength and finally solves the current predicament, the person he looks up to and cares for has long fallen behind him, living in a more complex and dense environment. In the dilemma. At a young age, he was forced to witness the devastation of this unfair social distribution. He felt hopeless and ashamed of his inability.
So he suffered. Although his pain seemed trivial.
He wants to release. Ballet is the only outlet. However, his father's forced suppression, coupled with the hard work and difficulties in practice.
So he suffered even more. He ran and jumped.
The footage of Billy’s father accompanying him to London for the selection process. He looks more nervous, cramped, and even a little ashamed than Billy-not decently dressed, Billy’s unrestrained violence, and the examiner’s question is not polite. With unobvious contempt. I am extremely afraid of seeing such a plot-the child's god, being swallowed by this unknown world. They are no longer tall, their bodies rickety and their backs are bleak. Too sad.
At a certain stage in life, you will find that love can no longer confuse you, but the sorrow and warmth of life itself make you addicted. Whether it is a mother who only left some photos and a letter, or a father, elder brother, or even a grandmother—an adult who is bound to life, they are not only imperfect, but they also have a lot of shortcomings and weaknesses, but none of these. Offset their deep love.
Only the "love" of my relatives can make me sure and affirm without thinking, without doubt, that this is love.
I once liked to sink and watch the twisted and strange emotions. But as I grow up year by year, I gradually like and rely on these rising emotions-healthy and hopeful. They are only ordinary, not to be found. They are not the dawn, the sunset at dusk, the downpour, the snow in the middle of the night, but the sunlight that is visible and always shining when they wake up the next day.
Like love, dreams certainly never die.
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