It's strange that in the first two years of high school I completely lacked the thought and ability to talk to people. In fact, it is nothing more than that my troubles are mostly anxiety about interpersonal relationships and inability to concentrate. I always feel that those words will become more complicated and troublesome for others. In fact, what was more real was that I thought that all this was an illusion brought about by my inner weakness, and that I could only rely on myself to overcome it, and others could not understand it at all; classmates other than very few. And my mom couldn't help me or really understand what I was thinking, no matter how hard she tried, sometimes she even saw it as me being playful. Not to mention my father, in his world, there is only one group of triumphant progress and God's reward for diligence, which must be rewarded. He doesn't know that these don't really apply in the world I live in in high school (mostly freshman).
In fact, there were so many people who came to warm me, but at that time I didn't know whether to live or die, and I couldn't control it. Fortunately, I don't feel sorry for myself, I don't like it, I don't write "sad" words, and I still worship things that are full of power. After reading "Alive", I wrote: I don't know when will I be able to feel this life that is "narrow as a palm but as wide as the earth"?
Now that all of this has passed, I can finally smile when I think about it, learn from self-mockery, laugh when I talk to my good friends, and think in my heart, those uncontrollable nerves are over, over.
Today, I live a student life similar to that of a high school student. I am forced to be busy at three points and one line, but my heart is satisfied and I get along well with the people around me without pressure. When you encounter bad feelings, try your best to say it, don't hold back or be depressed. I don't want to have the troubles of the past again. According to Grandpa Jung's theory, I should be an introverted emotional type, and I really want to transform into an extroverted rational type. However, Grandpa Jung said that it is dangerous, and I will split my personality if I get it wrong... So I accepted myself. When I was a little flustered in my heart, I didn't take it seriously, I didn't put it into the real heart chamber, and slowly it became calm again. People who are naturally emotional and green, like me, take it slow.
Lived an overly regular life: taking classes and reading books during the day, and returning to the dormitory to pull films after self-study at night. Unfortunately, the technology is too poor and there is a lack of professional guidance, so last week I borrowed the book of this pull film and came back to study. The first article I didn't expect to see was "Second Questions on Ambiguity - "Everything About Lily Zhou". I was not very happy (I don't deny that Siniang's admiration for it caused my prejudice), but I didn't want to challenge too obscure that night, so I started.
A cut shot that is separated and interrupted by the black field and flashing white of the BBS Japanese sentence substrate. The empty green fields, the chaotic 360-degree panning, rising and falling of the camera lens, and the melodious and ethereal humming, the quiet boy is addicted to the music of the sky, and there is no shadow on his face. I watched his loneliness, the weakness of being bullied, and the dream of light and security, and I slowly learned the story before he became gray as he typed and communicated with children like him. At this time, I still had time to study the "same camera jump connection, two virtual focus, two backlit lenses, the sudden shaking of the lens temporarily stopped..." The plot was far away and indifferent to me.
Until Kuno appeared. In the whole film, there are six times of ink on Kuno, only two times when he speaks, and the words are very few, no more than two sentences. The scene of waiting for the bus just confessed that she was popular with boys. What really depicts is the two scenes of chorus practice and formal performance. Noisy classrooms, gangs of mean girls, dark yellow light, and sudden conflict between girls, her isolation was shown mercilessly. When those girls clamored and laughed and let her quit, she always sat quietly in front of the piano, leaving only a silent back. This is the first time I've found the same emotions as this film.
If it is said that Tsuda's performance is mostly real, then Kuno's performance is mostly fictional, and the side is used to set off the performance. Arguments and rejections in the classroom are mostly given to those arrogant girls, other students who are watching and helpless, Sasaki who is helpless, and Yuichi who shows sympathy. Occasionally, the camera moves to Kuno in the depths of the shot with Sasaki in the foreground, her presence seems so humble and insignificant. The chorus performance that followed was a further manifestation of her insult. The girls in the camera smiled smugly and sang in harmony. Hoshino, who was under the stage, leaned forward with a blank face, following the girls' mocking eyes and Yuichi's worried eyes, he was standing beside the piano with his head lowered of Kuno. With a relatively long team, she is clearly in a weak and oppressed position deep in the camera. Even if she is the best at the piano, even if everyone sings and composes, even if she is beautiful and popular with boys, in front of everyone, she bows her head, she is bullied and helpless, and her dignity is trampled on.
Even if you haven't experienced that, you'll still find the same emotions in small corners. In the third year of junior high, I somehow broke off with a boy in my class who had a good relationship with me. From then on, he mobilized all his friends and friends to isolate me. The specific manifestations are: every morning when I enter the classroom, I will hear the boys in the first row spit out a mouthful of saliva (or thick phlegm, I don’t know); when the teacher calls me to answer questions, I will read the composition on the podium. Time, when I came to the stage to accept the award... In short, the boys in the first row would say "Bah" in unison as long as they read my name... There are many similar means of attack, the most serious one It must have been that many of my reference books disappeared before an exam, and I never found them again. This went on for most of the semester, and the biggest panic for me was that everyone around you seemed to be gone, and you didn't know what to do to stop or change it all. The direct result is that I went from a proud student who walked through many "little gangsters" to smoke in a crowd (the boy was one of them) and didn't flinch, to suddenly realize that he had established a good relationship with everyone around him. Importance, and before that I was very open to these things, and never cared about the attitude of ordinary people towards myself. Since then I've been afraid of those who play tricks behind people's backs and determined to never provoke them. From then on, I was no longer a "teacher's darling" in the eyes of my classmates. I paid too much attention to my attitude and speech, and reflected on my past behavior. Things that are trivial to others have suddenly become serious in my eyes. It can be said that the sensitivity and value that had been concealed under the self-superiority in the past all erupted after the setback, and it was beyond my control. It seems that the impact of this incident on me is still huge, and it can even be said that most of the fears in high school are still the after-effects of this incident. Now that I think about it, the situation is not that serious. At that time, there were still some people who always helped me, but it just created an illusion for you that everything around you is unpredictable, everything will be lost, and you have nothing to do. Would I still feel helpless if I went back to that period, knowing that soon it was all due to a misunderstanding and that it would end soon? I think so, in my teenage years.
I wonder why I didn't even remember to sort this out until today. Maybe after those things were over, I thought I had already started anew, and those things didn't need to be said again, I needed such a dashing gesture. But in fact not, even if the boy can get along with me later, even if he seems to have long forgotten that episode of Cha, even if they are small things, they are big events in the course of my life. As Ma Yuan said, those seemingly small things have a huge impact on our lives, but those seemingly major events are not.
I never mentioned these things to anyone after high school. But one day, a good friend suddenly told me about some of her junior high school experiences, which were surprisingly similar to mine. I was relieved. It turned out that my so-called twists and turns were nothing more than this, and I should have truly forgiven myself.
But there is one understanding that cannot be changed: primary and secondary schools are cruel places, children are snobbish, and all hostility can be manifested in a "mass" way. At an age when most people lack a real sense of discernment, they will always go along with the wishes of the more powerful students because of this or that mentality. Therefore, "discrimination" and "strike" are nakedly expressed in the form of group opinions, and most people have no way to resist.
Their stories are of course different from ours. They are the victims of the repression, dark desire for revenge, and sudden outbursts of violence lurking in the body of teenagers. I can't imagine that such a story has really happened, I just hope that there will be more compassion, and such cruelty will not happen again. But I always remembered the way they stood silently with their heads lowered. Tsuda looked up at the sky, music suddenly floated, and bright kites flew over the clean blue sky. At the end of the film, Kuno played the piano as if no one else was beside him, and the hat on his head covered the bald head of a shocking girl who mutilated herself. Her face was as calm as ever, and she couldn't see her true thoughts. I just hope she forgets everything and starts over. Although that's not possible.
The so-called cruel youth, in my growing up, is these small and ordinary things that have a big impact. In my normal life today, I remembered at that time in the flash of it, and when I wrote these words, the plan of the film review went to waste.
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