Whether awake or asleep, you will always be my direction.
I can't have more to miss, so I need to write down some things, some people, some beginnings of endings and beginnings of endings.
It seems that I will understand after a long time. I have the deepest feelings for some people. They run through my life. But together they carry my deepest memories. A glimpse of his hat brim, a thought of his childhood, never interrupted, without exception, pulls back the time that has passed, wakes up distant relatives, the faint old things repeat, back to the world with dewdrops, that A wheat field with a river flowing through it, and a dense forest where my heart, hopes and memories are integrated.
In the dead of night, we always think more. For our family and life, we always count all kinds of possibilities, but for ourselves, the deepest self is not very clear. Maybe this "self" changes with time. Some people have been silent in the past, and these people have also been silent, living the same life as yesterday. We see others, but we cannot see ourselves. When he left, he was still a teenager, and he hadn't seen each other for several years. When he came back, Paul saw the changes in Norman. Between hesitating, "East End made you weak" joked on the surface, but solemnly realized that the original We are no longer the daring youngsters of the past. Norman also saw a change in Paul. Sensing that during his absence, Paul had become an expert fisherman, guarding this beloved river. This "self" that is silent in others, is the soaring flame that burns and boils in Paul's body, still proud despite the endless suffering it brings to his master.
Such a firm mind was first revealed at a young age. Paul helped his brother fight, bravely rushed ahead among a group of older children, his toughness was internal, he knew he was stronger than others. He insisted on not eating cereals, not making noise or making noise, just sitting quietly, he was never happy to please anyone, even if that person was God, he also had himself. As a child, when Norman asked Paul, what do you want to be when you grow up? Maybe he will never become a professional fake liner, but at that moment, Paul already knew what he wanted. He looked at the blue sky and put aside a vow of fate as if it was the source of his thoughts. He said he would never leave Montana, nor would he leave it because he exists here. When Paul and the big fish wrestled down the river, I wondered several times whether he would drift forever and fall asleep together in the big river, but he was really strong, he conquered himself, between dogma and breakthrough, he found himself the rhythm of life. He held the fishing rod hard, the long line of his life, destined to struggle, he didn't know where this thought would take him, but he knew from the beginning that nothing could stop him except himself. . When he stood in front of his father and brother holding the big fish, he was destined to be perfect. No matter what the outcome was, he realized his ideal and surpassed it at the same time. He is not standing on the bank of the Big Blackfoot River, but is drifting on this land, even if the waves are rough, he is willing to set sail at any time. He said it was his life, his debt. He wants to do it alone, and his life depends on nothing else, just stick to himself. Maybe we just need to figure this out and everything will be easier and more feasible.
"...if each of us could visit a relative or friend in need at least once and ask him the question 'We would like to help, what can I do?' Although we often can't help those around us because we don't know ourselves Can give something, or don’t know what to give, but we can still love them, we can love them with all our heart.”
This last paragraph of the film may be an aspect that the director really wants to convey. When others need help, we may take the initiative to greet them, so the outcome will be greatly changed. Jessie could see that his brother wasn't doing well outside, but the silent greeting didn't know where to start. Many times, when some words have not been uttered, they have already been transformed into her heart, and she does not understand why those who need help the most are unwilling to be helped? In Paul's toughest times, his gambling debts and his desire to spread, he still refuses Norman's help. Those who are closest to us are usually invisible to us. Most of us are still isolated from each other even if we don't say it. Why is it like this? The comfort between brothers is also separated by a layer of frost. They exist with each other, but they are alienated from each other. They can only rely on themselves, but sometimes even the strongest people can't help but stumble in the misery. They want to ask for help, but they swallow the words. He would rather bear it silently and not disclose any rumors. He always brings new news to others, but he is reluctant to talk about himself, and he does not want to say a word to make others worry about him until he learns from others that he finally news. That kind of sadness is different from breaking the most cherished ceramic container. It is more like the silent sadness of boiling water on the stove in the kitchen, and no one pays attention to it.
The great floods of ancient times created rivers, and the rivers washed ancient rocks, some with immortal rain on them, some with long-lasting marks under them, some of the words they had, and some of our marks. They are like pieces of art, lying quietly at the bottom of the water without any restraint, like pieces of art that are timeless, intimately surrounded by rivers, watching the gurgling water, sparkling waves, fallen leaves, driftwood, empty space Like glass bottles, they flowed from the body. They are like witnesses of time, witnessing the hundreds of fleeting years washed by the rain, and witnessing the imperfect life that cannot be possessed forever.
At this moment, I discovered that the emotions that have been shrouded in my wanderings are not from the eyes of myself or others in the mirror, not from the power that can be controlled by myself to some extent, but from the surrounding Reflections in the environment and memory. As I stand alone in the shadows of Silent Valley, the sound of the Big Blackfoot River, the surrounding environment and all things melded together, rubbed into my memory, and became a flowing river, a steady stream, flowing through my heart , endlessly converging into the existence of dreams.
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