"Because you, like me, are dying too."
Silence, then, embarrassed and knowing smiles at each other.
"Come on, let's see what medicine I'm going to take... This is antioxidant, this is skin protection, this is hair protection, this is preventing osteoporosis, there are also some hormones, some nutritional supplements... you Look, these guarantee a healthy death!"
"Don't talk stupid..."
"Maybe...you know what, Ramin?"
"What?"
"I'm so happy to die with you today!"...
It is a mantra that touches the string of fragility more than any comforting words.
He clenched his brows and wept, because of this dying life, this young and vulnerable life~
A young man who is about to die from a disease, an old woman whose life is slowly exhausting, two people who are very close to the destination of death Lonely souls have resonance that is unimaginable to ordinary people. In the face of a life weaker than himself, perhaps the fear of death can be released a little, so that people can breathe for a while. Avoiding everyone's attention, you don't have to flatter the grief of the living, and you don't have to add a frustrating stroke to your own despair. So he left. Before he died, he created a lot of pain for the people behind him, and let them hate him, or reflect on him after he died.
Look for groups similar to yourself, people who are similar to yourself, people who are walking on the road of death like yourself, and they will follow their instincts and truly walk the final road. At least it can alleviate some of the panic of facing death alone. Two old and young people who finally depended on each other for life, two lifespans that had each been confusing and melancholy, two very different bodies marked with the traces of the years, were stripped away by death and only the truth remained.
Death is a sharp and cunning pair of scissors that gently and skillfully uncovers the truths that people deliberately ignore, the secrets that people try to bury, the lies that people weave for themselves. It's a magical thing, even though it's always smeared black, it's a mess. I can't help but wonder, who is the greatest fear of death? Who is the real owner of the great pain caused by death? The ones who were sentenced to death? Oh, of course they fear, of course they suffer; but are they the biggest "beneficiaries" of this?
Who taught us that death is terrible, black, terrifying, to be avoided? Who are we telling us about the pain of death, the torment of death, and the synonym for death - "despair"? Facing the disorder and collapse of death, is it out of instinct, or is it a concept that has been instilled in the past? How terrible, how hideous, how dangerous is death, so that people cannot hear, see, or even speak? No one knows, because everyone who really knows is dead. How much convincing is there in the perceptions that have been obtained?
Perhaps, the sense of awe in the face of death is one of the essence of human beings; but perhaps, part of the excessive fear comes from the fabrication of the living, the dead have nothing to worry about, only those who are alive Still craving for life, and worrying about gain and loss. Perhaps it would be a worthwhile reference to examine whether the fear of death remained in the pure land where human beings grew up in the childhood. In short, this is the realm of deep psychology.
Recently, I was reading "When the Green Leaves Slowly Fall" by Elizabeth Cooler Robles, a master of life and death. It is mainly about anticipating grief, especially for those who are still alive, dealing with the death of a loved one. She can also tell the story of life and death. Countless souls who have struggled on the threshold have calmed down in her narrative. People listen to memorize, and the power of stability gradually spreads. It's hard to live, and it's too easy to die. As a modern person with a strong material world and a fragile spiritual world, a negative outlook on life and death has subtly affected all aspects of life. All human emotions, negative and positive, ultimately boil down to two things - love and fear of death. Maybe we all need some kind of reassurance, to subdue the anxiety about death, to nourish the joy of life, such as religion, will be a good place to belong to the soul, at least we will not be so afraid, at least we are worthy of the time to live.
The movie is good, but the screen switching is a bit too trivial, I don’t know if it is a technique unique to the film profession. I haven't finished watching the film yet, and I've already been talking a lot. I'm really a little bit suspicious of neglect, sorry.
Don't stand at my grave and cry for me. I wasn't there, I didn't sleep.
I am a thousand howling winds, flying over snowy Northrend.
I am the soft and delicate rain that sprinkles the golden rice fields of the Wild West.
I am a quiet and quiet morning, pervading the green and lush Vale of Stranglethorn.
I am the mighty and majestic drum, stepping across the infinite grassland Nagrand.
I am the warm, shining star that shines in the silent sleep of Darnassus.
I am the singing bird, and I exist in all goodness.
Don't stand at my grave and cry for me. I wasn't there, I never left.
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