Miserable. Seeing that I don’t want to think about any questions that humans can think about, I will live in the cold winter first. Watching this movie on a winter afternoon with a light rain, I felt very cold and scared. I am afraid of this loneliness, but I do not believe in this loneliness. Most of the lines are very attractive to me. I don't feel it is very ramble, but I enjoy it. There are even parts that overlap with myself, and I want to record them. But the emptiness that exudes cold air like a piece of dry ice, I am only willing to pass by. Nothingness, the hopeless cold in the blizzard, I just want to watch, observe, understand, and pass by, I don't want to fall into this vortex. I hope the sun kills all this. I am also willing to believe and believe in nihilism and existentialism, but I will not be the one who walks into the snowy night. I'm an unimaginative person, and Kaufman made me so cold by showing me the loneliness I never believed. I remembered the reason for my fear, and I swore above that I didn't believe, wouldn't, and wouldn't be, but the movie reminded me not too long ago that I also realized that before modern times I would die every winter.
(Reminds me of my split self, a child room where my weak consciousness is stored, the subtle sense of powerlessness that seems to be standing on the edge of the bridge and unable to move, has left me. Silence in the depths of my brain) What kills is reality Is it the cold that exists, or the loneliness that doesn't actually exist? Hope is a human fantasy. Is there a difference between a naked person dying on a winter night and a pig eaten alive by maggots? There is a difference, no difference.
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