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Death in Venice
You should die, because you are old, how can you keep that beauty in such an old age.
I just feel very sad, but also feel very humble, perhaps because of the humble and sad. The final ugliness to see the dye dripping down the face with weak sweat, the powdered face and the greased lips.
Life is withering, in the sunset, by the beach, the boy's unintelligible posture freezes in his eyes.
Always chasing, always looking up, not daring to approach, like all wretched old men, obsessed with the profile of the young man who looks like a Greek god.
Use music, not language.
Well, perhaps it is self-knowledge, not to let too close to desecrate beauty.
Nostalgia, with pure spirit. But I don't believe that there is a complete isolation of the senses, that there is no possibility that the sexuality in it does not exist. It is an old man who has already bald, pursuing the incarnation of beauty with an almost pious eye. Should he be moved?
That statue-like handsome boy was like David on the bed, not like a person, but more like a symbol, a totem, whose name was Mei.
Looking at the old man who was sitting alone in a chair on the street and muttering, "Don't laugh like this, don't laugh at people like this, I love you!". It's more funny than sad.
Bondage, bondage of self-deception, shallow and fragile in the name of love.
The trembling hand stroked the blond hair of the young man, what kind of hand, the skin is loose, stained, pale, I feel sick.
Are you fantasizing? With the gesture of an elder, he touches the fascinated god, who is young and beautiful. Everything that he has lost or has never been obtained is presented in front of him in the most perfect ratio combination.
Those who should be inferior, how can they be touched, with such a pair of ugly hands and dirty mentality.
blasphemy.
because of aging.
Like a Faustrian head - you are beautiful, please stay for me.
Daydreaming.
In fact, I know it myself.
Someone once told him that you are old and therefore unclean.
Everyone ages, and no one can escape it. Shouldn't it be more fortunate, at least in the last time you can see the incarnation of the beauty god in your heart. He is his own Venus, his own muse, and no one can replace him.
Looking for him in the crowd, he went thousands of miles away, beyond life and death.
There is a wife who has just lost a daughter. She has lived for most of her life and has never doubted her sexuality. He loves his wife, but is madly infatuated with a teenager. Crazy crazy, no exaggeration, no ambiguity. A love that can't even be expressed, put yourself low and low, willing to die for him, be mad for him, and let yourself die in order to see him again.
What you get, you put your life on the altar of love.
Is it the smile on the corner of the boy's mouth or a glimpse.
Having said that, Tacchio also noticed him and seduced him seemingly without any trace. No matter what his state of mind, Asenbach should be content. His beauty is his last impression on his deathbed and freezes everything.
Dress yourself up like a clown and die with mottled color prints.
You know, how disgusting and disgusting I used to look at the old man who was rubbing powder and grease in front of my eyes, but I didn't want to, in the end, I was so unbearable.
The beautician said that you look new and can have any relationship.
You left stupidly, just thinking about something. Thinking that you are not aging, are you qualified to approach it?
In the end, there was still nothing, not even Tacchio's beautiful name.
How sad it would be to miss the most beautiful time to meet the statue of beauty that you have longed for your whole life.
I hate years, ageing, impurity, beauty, love.
Tacchio also gets old, which makes me sad.
Is there anything that makes beauty eternal, don't let me see the teasing of the years.
Since it's so painful, simply don't meet the beauty god, don't let yourself be beautiful, won't you be so lost.
Those once beautiful faces are gone forever, so it is better to wither in the best time.
I thought cruelly and laughed cruelly.
I like beautiful things, everyone likes them. Use your own definition of beauty to shape a beauty god, and spend your whole life to worship. Take a very serious look at a delicate jawline, muscle lines, eyes, lips, and bridge of the nose.
Without a whimper.
How can it be.
Rape with eyes.
No one is self-taught.
Why is it so cruel, let me see such a sharp contrast.
I see love, beyond gender.
I see humbleness, no love.
When I saw the indifferent carvings of the years, my heart was heartbroken.
Why get old? please tell me!
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