Or just like Lolita in Nabokov, the teenager in Malika Lawrence's arms, who knows if it will be a youth story that Widberg can't forget?
The growth completed in one thing, the turning of the clouds and rain turned out to be more than the panting under the bed, the collapse of the father's image, but the same uselessness and cowardice seen in the husband of the lover; Died at the most beautiful time, just like the love he once thought.
The pleasure after the climax turns out to be more possessive than love, and it seems meaningless to fall into the sea of lust between understanding and non-understanding. When breaking up, it is cruel and self-taught. It is a bit far-fetched to say that love is a bit far-fetched, but every time I see it once Such a happy couple can't help but feel sad when they break up with each other. There are too many stories like this in reality. We selfishly put all the resentment that we didn't want into this relationship. It can be ignored when breaking through the barriers of desire, and the same is true when hurting; her and his hideousness are nothing more than vicissitudes or a new birth, respectively.
I think of Gong Li's hand in "The God of Love", and also of the red lips biting the wave in "A Pear Blossom Presses Begonia", who's the prey? Who is the one whose fantasy is fulfilled? The desires of all stages of our life are refracted, secrets and stories are mixed, and we are all tacitly indulged in them.
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