She walked out the gate of the theater, following any direction.
The subtitles are up, there is no music, and the silent darkness weighs heavily on my heart.
She is 40 years old, and her face is not beautiful, but a kind of beauty forged by the precipitous loneliness and clear piano music, cold, cold, arrogant, and unlimited gathering and hidden deep enthusiasm.
He is handsome in any sense. Young, bright, vigorous, witty, and gentle. He who studied engineering has an inexplicable talent and affinity for piano.
Their love came a little abruptly, love at first sight. Resolutely unstoppable.
Without emphasizing the huge age gap, in the face of love, the suffering of the soul is equal.
It's like a battle.
While she rejected him extremely contemptuously, she ruined a girl's piano player because of the jealousy of love.
Such a cruel expression of love is shocking.
Family affection is equally sharp. The dependent mother treats her 40-year-old like a primary school student, and the ubiquitous phone tracking makes any normal person crazy. Her patience finally collapsed, they fought and scolded and cried and hugged each other.
Does falling in love mean hurting each other?
Perhaps, only those who love each other can hurt each other.
She said that he had been waiting for him for a long time. I wonder if this counts as love. Still a man trapped in the bottom of the well, waiting for someone to pass by and drop a rope.
She tried to control him with her usual arrogance and coldness. She believes that love is to satisfy each other unconditionally.
Her ridiculous and pathological demands made him retreat angrily. He said that she was sick and it was disgusting. But he still said he loved her, thinking he loved her.
Alice in the fairy tale fell into the tree hole. The tunnel below was so long. She fell towards the center of the earth, dancing and dancing but there was nothing to grasp. She wanted to speak and no one could hear, and all sorts of things began to appear in her mind. Fantastically, if there is no grass in the wonderland waiting to catch her, when such a fall continues, and when the sunlight disappears without flashing, Alice will definitely feel desperate. Even tried to hug the air.
In the middle of the night, she cried and pressed her mother's body, stroking frantically.
You are crazy, crazy. Mother screamed in horror.
She cried, and I knew who she was thinking in her heart, it was not despair.
Now I feel my heart is torn apart. When I saw her sitting in the bathroom before, she scratched her softest place with a sharp blade in search of pleasure. That kind of proficiency in stylized movements and nonchalant posture formed an extremely tragic collision with the wanton blood. The breath of despair permeated from this.
At this moment, she finally couldn't bear the suffering of loneliness and self, and faced her own desires squarely. She finally realized that she was so desperate for another person.
For her sickness, I would rather understand it as a purely extreme performance. Just like the music of Suede that I once liked, there is a pure and clean thing in the blurred, decadent and slightly sickly singing. She is too. Please don't turn your head because of the superficial pathology and make a contemptuous look. Many things are just expressed in different ways, and the underlying motivations are the same. Just as the standards for happiness are different, the desires and feelings for happiness are indeed shared by all. In my eyes, she is pure and clean.
She desires to be abused, and the pain makes people feel so conscious of her existence, that is the most powerful and profound kind of relationship between any life thing and the outside world. She hopes that someone will use this to save her from calm to suffocating loneliness.
He broke into her home late at night, and finally disgusted, punched her again and again. Blood dripping.
Is this what you want? Does this feel right? Ah? !
She slumped in the corner, crying, and shook her head.
Then,
he finally took possession of her, not possessed.
She was raped by someone she expected and loved.
When the body is twisted and happy, where is the soul left behind?
She lay under him, crying silently, and no longer resisted.
Love, it's no big deal. He gasped contentedly.
I used to look forward to seeing him save her from a hopeless fall with the hot and bright emotions of his young body. And when he said these words out of breath while pressing on her, my heart was cold and I closed my eyes. Can't bear to see her expression.
Alice continued to fall downward, no longer thinking and expecting. Give your body to nothingness.
It's all asking, forgetting to give.
The mother asks her daughter's youth to fill her loneliness.
She simply asked for his love and sacrifice to satisfy herself.
And his self-righteous love soon turned into possessing her body to redeem the self-esteem of being rejected and hurt.
The same is desperate, "Leaving Las Vegas" still has sincere mutual warmth and can clearly perceive the texture of love. And the love here seems to be just an illusion.
For her, maybe it is a straw that drowning people beg for?
For him, attraction or disgust occurred in an instant. Love ends in sex, and forgetting is easier than playing a note.
Everyone is ugly, and everyone seems so sincere.
Those naked desires sway in the sun with the help of the halo of love; those vivid and painful souls are struggling on the verge of despair when the night falls.
To show the ultimate in life is to transcend beauty and ugliness. I can't tell whether he, her, and her mother are beautiful or ugly. I only know that they are all incomplete, longing for love but not knowing what love is, desperate and real.
I saw ourselves.
I saw the one shared by countless souls.
This is a strong movie. The distribution of power is inside out, and a string in my heart is always tight. It reveals emotions and desires purely to the cruel side. Hot and bitter, calm and desperate. The director's composure and the actors' performances are impeccable.
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