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He drank the last bit of wine in the jug, and then threw the empty jug to the ground with all his strength. The hip flask was emitting sunlight, and after a few bounces, it rolled aside. He left it immediately. He sat there, blindfolded with his hands, trying—not to think, not to understand, just to see exactly what it was like. But all he saw were faces, faces, countless faces... and banknotes, wine bottles, the guys who were once humans, and some fuzzy figures. He knew that it had to be destroyed, and he himself wanted to destroy it. But he also thought that if it disappeared, there would be nothing but the barren and endless wasteland. Despair and frustration made him unconsciously lower his head and leaned against the wall. He suddenly got up, shook the dust on his pants subconsciously, then walked to the quarry and resumed his old occupation.
The sun was scorching wild, blood-red dots appeared in front of his eyes, and the air on the quarry site was trembling. In the shimmering light, the "golden ball" was like a buoy on the surging sea. Moving. He walked past the barrel and raised his feet carefully, not touching the black spots on the ground as much as possible. Then, he was trapped in the pile of rubble, moving his steps step by step, walking towards the "golden ball" that was shining and dancing. He was soaked in sweat, and the heat made him breathless. At the same time, a chill surged in his body, and he shuddered, as if experiencing a severe hangover. The white dust grinds between his teeth, with a sweet smell. He stopped thinking, just kept repeating his own babble, like praying or complaining: "I am an animal, you must understand. I don't know what to say, and they didn't teach me how to speak. I don't Know how to think, those bastards didn't let me learn how to think. If you were really there...omnipotent...omniscience...you will understand! Look at my heart. I know you Everything I want is here, it must be in it. I have never sold my soul to anyone! It is mine, it is the human soul! Please take away the thing I want, it definitely does not It will be gloomy. Fuck him, I can't think of anything except his words: "Everyone is happy, free, and always get what they want!""
Translated from the end of the novel "Picnic by the road"
Authors: Arkady and Boris Strugatsky
Tarkovsky based on this novel, filmed the masterpiece "Stalker"
Synopsis
A Yun star fell to the ground A large number of people were killed in a small Russian town on earth. The villagers ran away from this strange area and disappeared. From then on, it is called the "area". Legend has it that there is a "house" that can satisfy people's deepest wishes. The military was afraid of the possible consequences of this mysterious house, so they immediately surrounded the area with barbed wire and sent a fully armed army to patrol and guard.
However, the desperate life continues to drive people to take risks. The leader is a well-trained and experienced "stalker" who can quietly pass through the ever-changing traps and traps in the "area".
There are two other people in the company, one is a successful writer and the other is a scientist. One may seek inspiration and adventurous excitement, and the other may hire "stalkers" to lead them through the "zone" in order to find out the truth.
The stalker was trained by a famous stalker called "Porcupine". The "Porcupine" once entered the "zone" with his brother, came back alone with a wealth of money, and committed suicide a week later. Soon there was evidence that their biggest obstacle was not reaching the end of the "area", but the uncertainty of their deepest will.
When they arrived at the door of the "house", they feared that the promised dream would come true, which led to profound revelation and self-discovery.
Early in the morning, the stalker got up to say goodbye to his wife, and left his home to join the two. They quietly shuttled through various terrifying and complex terrains. In this terrifying place, all sceneries are specious, objects are constantly changing positions, and the terrain is constantly changing. It seems that there is a kind of high-level wisdom deliberately hindering people from passing through.
Tranquility, contradiction, metaphor, soul, essence, subconscious, inner world-outer world.
Everything is meaningless, everything is just on the road.
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last monologue
stalker: You know, my mother is very opposed to this marriage. You have understood it a long time ago. I think he is the one chosen by the gods, the so-called "God's darling." The whole "region" was laughing at him. His life was a big mistake, a very unfortunate life... My mother said, isn't he just a stalker? Isn't he a cursed person? Isn't he a prisoner all his life? There are children. Think about it, what the next generation of stalkers look like...I...I can't argue at all...I know exactly what all this means: I know he's lost all his life, and I know he will run away forever. If I don’t go, I also know our children...what else can I do? I'm pretty sure, I don't have any opinion on him, I can accept this. I also know that there will definitely be many sorrows, but the sad happiness...It is also better to live the gloomy life. Perhaps these are my self-comforting words later.
At that time, he simply walked over and said to me: "Follow me", and then I left.
I never regret this, never.
Then there is constant grief, which scares me and makes me feel ashamed. However, I have never regretted it, nor have I been jealous of others because of it.
Destiny is like this, life is like this, we are like this.
If we say that there will be no more grief in our lives, then this kind of life is no better, this kind of life will only get worse.
Because at that time, there will be no happiness and hope.
That's it.
The stalker's daughter was sitting at the table, reading a book.
She was wearing a shawl.
She squirmed her lips lightly, but there was no word, and no sound was revealed.
Outside the screen, the little boy’s voice reads like
"I love your eyes, dear friends,
they are magic tricks of flames.
When they look up,
It's like a lightning from heaven.
Looking around...
But there is another stronger magic:
when your eyes are down
, the moments of passionate kisses
pass through the slightly closed eyelashes and
burn the melancholy and dim fire of hope. "
- and Pushkin, Lermontov Russian Romantic poet par, autumn Qiefu.
Reprinted from the WeChat public account "Soviet-Russian Broadcasting" (soviet-russian)
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