In fact, it was originally two people, one road, daily cathartic dialogue, and punching and kicking of adult men. Such a low-cost production does not look new, or even boring. But it is the content of the mutual scolding between the two that makes me feel that the two protagonists are more like a metaphor, like two sides of one person. The fat man is the ideal, and the cockscomb head is the reality. The roads in the desert, like life, are equally boundless. Ideals and reality clashed, and there were disputes. The ideal satirizes the reality as being numb, boring, and hypocritical. The reality also admits that the novelty of extramarital affairs is only temporary, and after a long time, it will be a boring wife again; the reality also abuses the ideal, impoverished, unrealistic, and daydreaming , jealous of the rich. . . Isn’t that exactly what our hearts are like, living a realistic life and dreaming ideal dreams, sometimes our hearts are higher than the sky, and sometimes we feel that our feet are too high off the ground. In the conflict and struggle, "putting hope on others" and "missing opportunities", I don't know whether to be cruel to others or to blame myself.
Regarding this open ending, pessimists feel that writing, music creation, resignation, and traveling around the world are all just cockscomb head (reality) dreams, fantasy in predicament, and will eventually fall into the pit of reality. Dusty. Although still alive, he is just panting, waiting to be buried by the dust of the day.
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