Oct 7

nbsp;She turns back, pumping a knife striking to her shoulder, a flower of blood blooming cruelly and beautifully. After putting the knife away, she walks towards the street with the face lacking any interpretable expression. The fog has been filled the night outside. Without any moisture of love and sex for about forty years, it seems that the body has lost all the consciousness, or even having to separate her private parts with a blade to release self to prove to self that she is existed.
To him, the attraction and aversion all occur in an instant. Sex is the end for love. To forget is more easily than to snap a note. Everyone is so ugly, but everyone also seems so sincere. Those naked desires show off with the help of the ring of sunlight; those vivid and painful souls struggle on the edge of despair in the falling night.
To show the extreme of life is beyond beauty and ugliness. I am unable to explain clearly whether she and her mother is beautiful or is ugly, what I only know is that they are all incomplete, eager to be loved but not know what kind of material love is, so despairing and true. I have seen my own in the film, and have seen the common one in the countless souls.
Of course, what the film describes are these special groups in the society, but it seems to have firmly made inquiries to every one of us. The last screen picture in the movie is actually quite like a row of heavy quot;fencequot;. In the heavy fence, Erica opens a door, and then opens another door, and then opens a door again, and finally comes to the quot;outsidequot;, but also has been into a new quot;fencequot;. Whether our heroine can escape from those fences?

From great and perfect, post La pianiste: the Invisible Fences in the Society

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