That cafe, that jazz, that ambiguous time before closing, that cigarette, that light, that man, that woman.
That story written for a kiss.
Today, I finally have time to enjoy the leisure time I haven't had in a long time, turning off the lights, pajamas, and movies.
It's like having sex with an image of nothingness.
A beautiful boy who likes desserts, a decadent boy, and a decadent boy who can make desserts just clicked my dead spot.
But this person cannot be Jude Law.
Sometimes I feel that a person can only belong to one movie. Even if he is an actor, playing thousands of roles, but his soul belongs to the only one, just as his first kiss belongs to the only one.
Just like Jude Law, only belongs to Wilde.
It belongs to a genius, belongs to a gorgeous era, belongs to the teenager who lifted his chin and held his breath in the bustling crowd after a stage play.
The lens is just like that, there is no change, no split lens, straight, cut to his beautiful appearance.
That reminds me of "the South has beautiful women, and remains independent from the world." It
reminds me of "Zhan Biqiao, green bamboo 猗猗. There are gangsters, like learning from each other, like pondering like grinding." It
reminds me of everything about beauty. Fragile things.
So no. Blueberry pie is good, but no.
I'm determined not to enjoy Jude Law's blueberry pie, like a young girl holding on to her chaste lips.
………………
But, well, before shutting down, let me review the kiss again.
View more about My Blueberry Nights reviews
