No one survived.
The last young man died just a few meters away from his life, where he was hanging, his whole body was frozen, his face was frozen black, and the cold light of the sun hit the sunglasses on his head. The woman he loves is close at hand, watching him take his last breath and lift his head to the top of the mountain and the sky... He and one of his German brothers and two young Austrians fell into the dead north of the Alps.
Isn't it death? That mountain, which also has the same name as the mountain in another reel of another film, had clouds and mists. We drove past late at night and people were performing death in movies.
The script of the movie may be the shroud of any of us, wrapped in a cold and hard body, love, faith, paranoia, and even the only fatal accident in our life, falling heavily into everyone's Alps.
...
People came here in costumes on the little train in the mountains, journalists, adventurers, successful businessmen, hereditary nobles, lovers of gentlemen, telescope renters, soldiers and cleaners, each with their own hopes. I give you the diary, girl, "All my important experiences are written here, including my deep love for you, it keeps all my secrets, and how embarrassing it would be to lose it."
…
Today I can't write poems and novels, I can't finish my homework, and I can't express the sadness in my heart.
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