is youthful and simple. Pen and paper letters, few words, poetic.
He was a soldier, and she worked in a pool hall. The future is very uncertain. However, the mind is very simple.
Love in the 60s was so obsessive. The eyes are still wanting to talk, and the demeanor is cowardly and tentative.
Perhaps the best time for love is in the last classic charm of the 1960s.
It's gone now, and I won't find it again. When I wait for the bus on a rainy night, my fingers clasped together is a love that is worth a thousand words. The piano like
free dream flowing water.
Concise and full of flavor subtitle narration.
There is not a word, only the character's lips are opened and closed in the movie.
The rest is the singing like Devil May Cry. There was a forbearance of disappointment and desolation in the look of the brothel woman.
She is the confidante of the reformers, listening to them talk about the country, reform, and freedom.
She completely concealed her feelings and waited silently. Smile and sing decently every day.
But what is the freedom he often speaks of? He bought freedom for his little sister with 100 taels.
He fought for freedom for the country with passion. But never miss the freedom of the confidante around him.
In the end, the beauty gradually declined, and the newly bought girl could only learn to sing. The best times just disappear like this.
She still couldn't wait for the words she wanted most.
The revolution begins and he will leave. She finally asked the deepest words in her heart: Have you ever thought about my life?
Did not expect an answer. Freedom never comes. It becomes a dream as the best years fade away.
Sing like weeping. The ending was nothing but the tears of mourning that finally flowed from the cheeks.
Youth dreams
have everything. I'm not happy. I was unhappy when the back seat of a speeding motorcycle started shaking.
I'm not happy in a dark room with sensuality. Singing in a noisy bar, I'm not happy.
Imagining myself dying, I'm not happy. I'm not happy with some incomprehensible words for photos.
She is asking whereabouts again, I am not happy. As if to seek solace in him, I am not happy.
I like men and women who are maverick and split inside. I'm not happy.
You can see the red scar on my neck, I'm not happy.
She threatens me, she's dead, he doesn't say a word by his side, I'm not happy.
Why does youth become so rotten and can't find an outlet?
I should have had many dreams that were dead, rotten, and evaporated in my mind.
I just want to die like this in darkness and stall. Day after day, year after year.
In my best youth, I was not happy.
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