《The Classic》-A dream that can't exist in love by Providence

In this age when most people pursue character and despise warmth, I still admit with shame that I hold fast to and love pure love. Unfortunately, under the deliberate manipulation of people's hearts, pure love and sensationalism are just like the positive and negative sides of a coin. Recently, it is difficult to distinguish male from female.

My love is always in the air.

To some extent, love is meant to make up for this regret. It is a Book of love notes with lily fragrance, which is weathered when it is opened. It combines all the factors of pure love, but it does not make people suspicious because of its falseness.

In Guo Zairong's story, the first love should be a paper plane that flies out of the window at dusk. It is white, light blue and gray, clean and confused. The notes of the wings are balanced in the path of youth's sadness and ecstasy.

The grasp of artistic conception is just right. In Zhu Xi's eyes, there is the lost love, while in our eyes, there is the lost and ongoing love. "You stand on the bridge and watch the scenery. The people who watch the scenery watch you upstairs." What does it matter? Anyway, we all love these beautiful and fresh moments. Anyway, at this moment, we are both beautiful and gorgeous. It doesn't matter whether you look at me or I look at you, whether you look at me or be appreciated, whether you are on the spot or feel the same. You just need to know, you smile, so I smile, our smile, let people remember beauty and good.

Youth is the same color as the wet mountains and forests. It's as moving as the raindrops on the forehead. The years are delicate and easy to sort out. Everything is right without a trace of smoke. The paper at the beginning of the film is flying all over the sky. It is like the spring that has been accumulated for a long time in my heart. It is also like the rush of time. Everything that has been solidified and buried is stirred by the wind in that moment. Then there is a rainbow, just like the beauty of love, just like the unreachable attempt.

Oh, there are those who will never be out of date. They look forward to and fear the thousands of irises in the blue sky. They seem to be out and in the middle. Pigeons are cooing under the vine leaves. Maybe they will not understand the ultimate blind spot of human beings. To live for love, to die for love, to be crazy for love, and to be indifferent for love. In one word, I have practiced for thousands of years. It seems that I have to continue to dive.

It's clear that they just eat one kind of raw material, but they want to do everything, even if they end up with the same result.

Pigeons will not understand, no matter how much rain, as long as the sky is still, there will be a rainbow, there will always be dazzled people watching the rainbow. People don't care about the length of time, whether there is a devout audience, whether they are a passer-by or a hasty pedestrian, or even the huge stage of the sky and the earth that has not changed. As long as we have hands and feet, can laugh and cry, we are allowed to go to this dance quietly, even if it is simple and crude, it has no music, it is tiger headed and snake tailed, and even it stops suddenly.
Love is not so much a movie as a poem sung under the first moon. The surging of music, like the full and vivid colors in the pigment box, complements each other in green, red, yellow, blue and white, turns into the surging emotion of smoke, quietly pushing the story to the climax.

Zhuxi and Zixi have the same face, but they will never be mistaken. Zhuxi is elegant and poetic, with the bright and new JUNHE in the Qing Dynasty. It has the beauty of Valley oil painting. Their singing, laughing, frowning and sighing, elegant and touching, whether it is the first glimpse in the water, the spirit of haunted house exploration, the silence of the shed in the rain, or the heart of the first fire under the lamp, all of them are not as beautiful as the world. Ordinary people, as long as they can appreciate any of these scenes, may be enough to move, but their every scene is too amazing. Such a fate is unexpected, doomed, lucky and regretful. The flowers are full of spring. When they are full, they can only flow away. Even if they can only end up separately, they used to laugh and cry, so they can live up to this life.

Zixi is arbitrary and introverted. She is timid and kind-hearted. It seems contradictory but natural. Although she inherits her mother's face, her personality is more or less inherited from her father's Taixiu. She likes to watch her blowing her forehead and hair. In my impression, Taixiu seems to have done it to JUNHE. Some of them are frustrated and a little indifferent. It's not poetic, but her life is full. It seems that what happened is not enough to hit the enthusiasm and self. It's better to add such a gene, even if you are an immortal, you will be infected with the smell of fireworks. Like Zhu Xi is beautiful, but there is always a trace of helpless melancholy in the United States. Sure enough, the fate did not let her go, and she did not produce enough to resist the rough fate.

Compared with the elegant and picturesque Zhuxi of Tsinghua University, Zixi is as straightforward and simple as a song. She is much more ordinary in the crowd. It's the kind of girl next door who can be seen everywhere, but has her own little dream and unique smart mind. Naive but not too aware of pain, secret love is the supreme trouble. He pays close attention to the handsome and tall prince in the drama society, expresses himself implicitly and covers up his mind flurriedly. At last, Fu Linxin knows clearly that his mother's love is not as tactful as his mother's love. At most, he can't say that his heart is in harmony with his mother's. The most joyful tremor is running all the way in the rain, and the most beautiful moment is a kiss on the bridge under the moon. No more, no more will be lost.

The love between mother and daughter of two generations is bound by the rain. JUNHE carries Zhuxi through the woods and sets up an umbrella for Minwei Zixi. Both of them catch fireflies on the small bridge under the moon and reach a quiet climax. At the last moment, I really want to appreciate the mercy of the years. Although fate has separated the people who should have been together, the gene is very tenacious. I still have to remember the familiar track of attraction and closeness. Even if I separated ten thousand times, I would meet ten thousand times.

In fact, I know that such feelings are hard to exist in reality, but I can't stop being attracted. Such a complex seems to be familiar, like poisoning. Once it does happen, it is often too hesitant to grasp. Doubting it is just another fearless illusion. When people live, they have to compete with all kinds of things. Love is the same, it also has its own life, but often to miss, and burnout, and Providence, and death competition. After fighting, you can have a lifetime of perfection, but it's nothing more than goodbye next time.

Therefore, this story is not so much a record as a dream. True or not is not its theme, it as long as you laugh, and then clear tears.

A good movie is like life. You don't expect all of it, or all of it is climax. But there will always be a second when the prelude comes to an end. It will give you a heavy punch and make your heart flow a drop of tears.

For this tear, it can even be just a clear dream.