I wanted to throw up after walking out of the movie theater. In fact, the giant screen at Dolby Hall and the bright red festival subtitles below it made me want to vomit right from the start. The vomiting after the movie is both physical and psychological. I'm dizzy, but I'm not elevated, not able to float lightly in the air overlooking the earth. As it should be, my body also acts like a metaphor, repeatedly reminding me of the fact that I am a human and not a god. It also reminds me that I am alive, not dead, that the cross on the shoulder of the agnostic reminds me of the weight of sin. I can still breathe and walk shamelessly in the city of false brilliance, and Lazaro has returned to the ancient pastoral before his fall, the mountains abandoned by the times. I tried not to look back, not to examine myself, and Lazaro overthrew my hypocrisy. I'm sinful, I think, I'm an activist in this era that killed Lazaro. The sudden guilt was like a thunderbolt on the ground. I watched the neon lights of Vientiane World at 9:41 at night in Nanshan and told myself, God, we should all die.
The village before Lazaro fell was a long idyll. The bare mountain ridges and green fields are so peaceful, it is logical to hide the filthy corners of human animal nature. Lazaro walks in the green like a goddess, generous and tolerant like a god, kind and sweet, That divinity allowed him to accept enslavement with ease. The Countess said, I oppress this group of people, this group of people oppresses this poor man. When she said this, she looked at Lazaro, the one who was always working, the one who would go diligently whenever someone called him. That divinity made him not even care about dignity and gratitude. The moment I saw his eyes, I understood that the creator was trying to construct a symbol, a perfect avatar, and Farah said he had animal-like eyes, primitive and candid, straight to the point of nakedness. Writers say that tragedy is the destruction of good things for others to see. The first and last sight I saw of Lazaro was like the first sight. At the first glance, I guessed that the ending of waiting for this godly boy was death, a bloody and brutal death without mercy, like a white cloth quilt Throwing it on the ground and being trampled on, people cry over what was once spotless. My intuition is so accurate, even the metaphor is accurate, I almost forcefully looked into his unclosed eyes, and the confusion in those simple eyes made my heart pierce.
Lazaro is a god who came to the world for a walk. The human species has not evolved to the point of being as perfect as Lazaro. Agnostics should not believe in the existence of gods, nor should they believe in guides who hold torches to lead people forward, and should grope their way forward even in darkness. And Lazaro didn't exist to be believed - he was a symbol, a brand-new mirror, an ironic metaphor, reflecting my ugly face; he died of the purest good, the pure mythical shepherd boy should have To fall asleep forever in the valley, and to sleep through the ages, without waking up decades later to witness the ever-changing human society. Out of animal greed, human beings demand more prey, and then demand more money, status, stratification of classes, build palaces, weave silk and satin, the king in power raises his arms, and declares that the mountains, rivers, lakes and seas are all for him. Civilizations are established one by one, and then collapsed. Revolutionaries waved flags, planted castles, and announced a change of dynasty. Lakes were filled with loess from valleys, valleys were levelled by roaring machines, factories were built, and chimneys pierced the sky with foul air. They say that in order to improve the quality of the people and build a civilization within civilization, children are picked up from the mountains, forced to be separated from stars and crickets, pushed into schools and taught how to be qualified social citizens. Oceans and fields were stripped from the blood of human beings, and the galaxy, which should be appreciated by all mankind, became a rare property. One day under the sun, I told Liu Yuqing that people came from the universe, and now I can't see my hometown with the naked eye. Human beings keep making mistakes, hurting mountains, rivers, lakes and seas. I asked her if the earth can take millions of years to adjust itself to the way it used to be after human civilization is completely extinguished? Liu Liangcheng wrote that a hundred years of wind can flatten a village, and the steel bars inserted into the ground leave scars that can never be healed. But the universe has been generous, and I say this, human beings have been making mistakes, and it has quietly watched this insignificant group of beings make mistakes. The universe must have its own way, unlike us. We have always been narrow and selfish, driven by desire, sinful, and even blasphemous. It is such a dirty and riddled creature that can survive on earth by primitive violence, put on a suit to hide his instincts, I live for being bad enough, Lazaro dies for being too kind. He opened his eyes and said seriously, I have weapons. He is my half brother. Can you give him his property back? I shouted silently, you broke the rules. Humans make rules and kill those who break them. You, I, the ruler, we have always relied on the most primitive animality to kill our opponents to win, and constantly become the winner between the survival of the fittest, the hypocrites who intend to hide this animality, and the ace of the finals with peace of mind. I was struck by such thoughts Pulled exhausted. I want to cry, Lazaro, Lazaro, should I die? I imagined Lazaro's reaction and he would probably answer, of course not, you are very nice. Do you want coffee? I have a place to make coffee. Time doesn't work on you, Lazaro. I'll grow old, I'll die, I'll be doing my part in felling trees or melting Arctic glaciers in my impossibly short, near-nothing life, and my presence will still hurt the planet. And you will exist peacefully with the universe, live endlessly, and use your eyes to embrace the edges and corners of industrialized cities and the clumsiness and ugliness of people. You should keep falling asleep. The rest of the time is left to the insignificant us to continue to fight and fight until the fate of human civilization is exhausted. People never knew they were enslaved until they were free, they never knew they were so ugly until they saw beautiful things. Please stay asleep, Lazaro, in the country fields. I can only continue dancing by ignoring my scars and chains.
I wandered back to my house numbly, wandering blindly around the mall. Everything that seemed so dazzling seemed ironic to me on this night. I don't think I'll be able to feel happy any time soon. To curb the vomiting and stay awake I bought a milk tea at Michelin, and even though the caffeine makes my wrists start to shake late at night, everything that happened tonight had to be recorded before the pain went away. Passing by Alexandar McQueen at Yitian Holiday I thought, what did he die for? If it were me, I would tell everyone that I died in an unspoken dirge sung by naturalism. Why are Bertrand Montague and Jan Gonzalez anti-naturalists? Between life and death and nature considerations I started caffeine cramps. Very unfortunate, I thought before I lost my ability to write and think, the irony of the destroyed survived, and the survival was never worthy of destruction. The music will continue to play in the back of my chest, and some old voice will tell me the story of a long, long time ago, when the valley was still a valley, a wolf walked up to a saint. - My God, I want to go back to my hometown so much.
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