As if any kind of growth breeds a suicidal idea. It seems that all older people have felt that the misfortunes of the world can be overcome, and they should have forgotten that they were once children.
Lonely boys, girls project them as lost as themselves.
Before long, we should be like the majority of the masses, working at sunrise and resting at sunset. But before that, we can't. At the beginning of his growth, he must be indifferent and stubborn and scary. And with the purest desire, it could be a dream, or a freedom, maybe a boy. All of these are stifled by one thing—parents.
What are parents? It's a way of loving our family in a brutal way. They impose their fears on us in the hope that we will understand their fears. How is this possible, as if they don't understand our grief.
Lisbon parents don't understand why they give their children so much love and care but can't let them bloom. Hey, we may not be afraid of hurt, we want to really feel everything in the world. Freedom is the most fundamental pursuit of our growth, but it has never really been obtained.
In fact, we can all understand each other, but we can't always empathize with each other.
The world is not beautiful, we are still taking pictures, and they no longer plan to take pictures.
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