Oh, you are not. You said that writing scripts is such a sad and annoying job for you, and words are so charming, but whenever you write, those inspired by words, those that belong to the space and space of the movie The vague images of the time domain flood into your mind. You can't stand the trembling shadows on the stairs, the wide feathers, the huge eyes of the creatures on the beach, a Catholic prayer ceremony, a wanton sexual carnival... …The fleeting things that are out of nothing just disappear from your pen tip, so every syllable in your movie is created improvised in that way. They have not undergone mechanical transformation, and have not been idealized in layers of complex anatomy. It was wrapped in a strange metal-like hypocritical posture. You hire a French kid who doesn’t speak Italian as an assistant, and you look back at his expression every time you take a shot; you use foreign actors, you let them speak unrelated lines, and finally dubbed the voice, the language is yours What kind of problem is this... You are looking for everything similar to what appears in your dream, you always keep your ignorance, your uncertainty, persistently wanting to change and return to the original point. What we get is always different from what we want. You still dare not watch your own films. Do you still think they are strange, like your enemies? You are as ashamed as a little boy who has masturbated...
In the beginning, you were so kind. People watched your little woman and that crack-crack-crack car. They all blew their red noses and misty eyes with tears. You gave your Kabylia a warm and surviving ending. (You said that you are not like a benefactor or a philanthropist, but a bit like an arrogant and affectionate puppet theater owner who treats his puppets). Later, you are more and more interested in examining yourself, and you are always handsome and charming. , To show affection to all kinds of women, just can’t accept mediocre love; your expression is indifferent, you are watching other people’s tragedies, without ambition or sympathy; you will be suspicious of others saying that you live in an orderly society It’s no safer than a lonely body. You find that transcendence and tranquility are not available. You decide to make life equal to the game, continue to let the chicken feathers fly, and let yourself jump; later on, you become more and more fascinated by the mysterious and absurd things, even if you Otherwise, the world will not change. Bach’s law of balance makes you sweat, driving away the lover who can give you nothing but maternal love, and you return to her sturdy arms...
You have almost made up everything: childhood, characters, homesickness, dreams, memories.
Oh, you like makeup and decorations. You want to meet women of all skin colors and races, and have children with them, children of all skin colors, yellow, white, brown... You want to see faces all over the world, Compare each face with all other faces, look for an expression and a gesture among all the strangers. You are a child who can never be satisfied-this also makes you banished forever-the street buskers seem to be when you were young Is your favorite identity. You also like Kafka...fascinated by the maze-like world, the maze-like life, the maze-like people and people, each of your movies is like walking through the maze, until the process itself becomes an exile...
you There is no need to have tears in your heart, as long as someone lives such a sweet life with you, has no boundaries in your dreams, and swings with your indulgent music. The innocent girl in childhood waved to you, maybe you also secretly regretted not passing by; maybe you think that she doesn't need her anymore in reality.
But I saw you in exile, so I didn't dare to look any further.
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