Sybil really said she was going to die

Trenton 2022-03-23 09:02:26

Perhaps it is the preference for such a wasteland and such a sense of rhythm. In the music at the beginning, the mother's clumsy body movements also show a slow intoxication. At this time, you can't see anything unusual about this mother, and you don't know what kind of journey she has ended, so you don't take it seriously, worrying a little about the eyes of the deer, until you almost forget Yuan Bin's original appearance.

Limping and limp, it is difficult to move forward and backward.

You may even feel that such a mother and son make you fall into a deliberately lyrical frame again, she is bleeding, she says he is bleeding, the calm and self-confidence she has because she believes in the goodness of her son is still in the situation of being pulled by the Korean style. Remember your makeup before the next run.

No character is superfluous, and every character constantly insinuates the thickness of the film in the details. You are constantly poking around in these luxuriant leaves, but it is difficult to find the pseudo-brightness that satisfies you.

As Heraclitus said, the ascending road and descending road are the same road. In the house where the groceries were piled up, the scream of your mother woke you up as a spectator, and you began to get inexplicably excited. The rolled-up calendar reminds the 15th that in the enclosed space of such a house, entangled with true secrets, the secrets of the innocent, the secrets that turn well-meaning investigators into abusers, and then you will persuade yourself to use One reason to defuse all the secrets, she is the mother.

However, your first reverence for this mother is not used to resolve the secret, but comes from her encounter with this uncle, an old umbrella, two-choice banknotes, no words, the simplicity of the heart Softness and persistence are all there. Then the mother walked along the bridge to this side, and the uncle pulled the groceries to the other side.

On the way up, the mother gradually gets closer to the truth. You even admire her potential wisdom and affinity, the stamina of the best detectives, the knee and left eye hiding in the closet, all restrained from shaking like that. At all costs, use the most indifferent leave to kill all unprovoked forces, the three oil-headed men sitting in KTV, these so-called representatives of the most concerned power, they are all wonderfully "intoxicated" and can't lift their heads. Come, maybe no longer wake up, the wellhead of life will be more beautiful. The line "You're finally sitting down" is fantastic (if the lawyer knew what it was).

Humans are such creatures that they will smash an honest mirror in anger, if what the mirror tells you is the ugly appearance you don't want to see. In the truth that her mother is most concerned about, what she sees is not ugliness, but the most powerless counterattack, the son's powerlessness, he is just counterattacking the idiot, the victimized girl's powerlessness, she is just tired of declaring shame, white-haired uncle The powerlessness, as a voyeur, he was indifferent to the gap, never rescued or escaped. So she must be involved as a mother, with the imagination of each of our viewers, and finally shouted her mother trembling in a pool of blood.

It is still a wasteland, the hands raised upward, the fingers are slightly curled, and there are still some edema. The work of these hands is in the stalk of Chinese herbal medicine. These hands only hold two small tomatoes, and these hands are wearing scars and knocking on the car window. , these hands are full of details that only she is the listener, these hands handed the child poison, and now these hands carry a secret that only she knows, another secret.

Although this secret was revealed again in the only episode that seemed deliberate, the needle box in the ruins, and the mirror began to piece together again, but it really didn't matter anymore, in the corner of the car window, she needed to repeat for herself that there was no other The end of forgetting, wash away the scary corner of the memory.

I never knew the bumpy aisle of a bus could be such a good dance floor for these "elders" to revel on the highway, mother dancing with the mark of the needle, the afterglow, it's the long and narrow evening, she From here to there, there is no difference.

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