As long as I watch it over and over, you won't die, Spike.
2
I don't know if this is the first time I've mentioned you in years. Speaking of you guys. I don't know that this is the first time in the past few years that I have not yet come to the polar night, and when I have finished today, I have pulled out that very old set of CDs and picked out an episode to watch. It's only a twenty-minute story. It's just a glimpse of the countless streams of time in life. It's just a man, plus a man, plus a woman, plus a child, plus the smartest dog in the world.
Cowboy Bebop.
3
How old was I when I saw you for the first time. I'm only interested in a story with a clean and refreshing main line. Why will my eyes be drawn to you? Is it those classic specious looks and shots? The steeple church, the man with the sword sitting in the ruins; the handsome Bruce Lee-style fighting skills; the children running around like a boy with the head of the chicken coop; these and that are the scenes and dialogues that make people think. There are also strange plots. As if nothing was said. It was as if everything had been said.
The only feeling I had after reading it for the first time was, ah, why didn't that bamboo stick man not notice Faye's eyes behind him looking at him! If they notice, they can be together, and then have a good happy ending!
When is the second time. It was me who started to feel that everything was not that simple. Start putting yourself into the character's mind with the character's emotions, and then try to make some changes in the middle, like if a bullet misses a little, or he suddenly has a crazy mind on the way to where.
In the end I found that there was no way to change it. The only thing that can change is whether you smoke one cigarette or two cigarettes before you leave, but you will still fight the fight that should be fought, and the parting will never reappear in front of you.
I never believed in these.
I used to think that these stories were just gray fragments picked out by middle-aged men from life and told to everyone, and they always brought a faint smell of decadence and a lingering sense of helplessness. And the life before me, it will not be like this. Hard work pays off. As long as you don't stop chasing your footsteps, you will definitely be able to set foot on your favorite place. Just enough sweat and faith. Just enough dreams and reflections of color.
Then what.
Then, at certain moments in my life, I can even hear God chuckling in the corner.
4
So what exactly are you trying to teach me?
You're saying that maturity isn't about choosing to do something, it's just choosing not to do something, right? You're saying that maturity is about jumping into the whirlpool of fate even though you know you can't reverse a certain ending, right?
Did you hesitate the night before you left? Whether the present life is just an illusory reflection of the rich and colorful experience of the past. If you never cared or cherished everything on this dilapidated ship.
Not really.
Just man, he is such a sad animal. When he saw the dawn in the dark corner and saw the warm yellow dream he was waiting for, he suddenly realized that his body still existed, so he seemed to be able to pursue happiness, as if he could touch it if he clenched his hand Touching happiness—he didn't even know if that counted as happiness. Just staring long enough in the direction. Just long-term dreams and obsessions. Just woke up in a coma and heard a soothing song, he heard himself say, please don't stop, just keep singing like this.
So the plot is such a contradictory and fragmented collision all the way.
The man said that one of my eyes was a prosthetic eye, and since that day, this eye can only see the past.
5
I am very tired. So please give me rest. Grant me the strength of the blissful morning. Anyway, please. thank you.
10/23/2009 midnight.
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