PIERRE opened the elevator and said to Alice: Thank you. I think he is a coward. But nothing wrong. PIEREE said yes, this is Paris, no one is happy, we murmured, we love this. They don't know how lucky they are, walking, breathing, running, arguing, and running. They don't know how lucky they are, just like that, carefree in Paris.
Across the taxi window and the cafe window, he and the girl looked across from each other, and they kept looking at each other as if they had known each other. Between people is a small love song one after another, only a moment, passing by.
In the cloudy sun, PIERRE lay in the back seat of the car with a smile on his face.
Suddenly I thought of the Tower of Babel. The Tower of Babel is the first multi-line narrative film I watched. Many years ago, I can't forget the "butterfly effect" between people, but I can't figure it out. In this film, chaos breaks open: life is not a perverted climax, life does not always need to be decorated with eccentricities, we are one after another, whether it is success, failure or pride, we brush shoulders again and again And then, so what. Life is always your own, love is always your own.
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