There is a poster shop in the east of Xiaozhai Cross, which is clean and tidy, except for posters, there is nothing superfluous. I remember chatting with the shop owner last year, but it’s been a long time since I went there. I remember that there were more people watching than people who bought it. I was one of them. When I'm free, I can't help but think about it. It's almost August, and the whereabouts of individuals at this time last year have all been settled, and many people have already left the school. I have no intention of doing anything, and I get into the small viewing room of the film research center in the courtyard every day with three good friends, watching one film after another without any darkness, no one is talking nonsense, no one is watching anyone, only the projector Ming and extinction. There is dust dancing in the light. There is a smell in the air called Lishou. Because I have the key to the observation room, and the holiday is about to end, no one will bother me. It seems that I will watch it like this for a lifetime. I remember drinking a lot of green tea, my tongue is astringent, and I keep running to the toilet. They kept drinking, as if they wanted revenge. There were buckets of water in the corner, and they were silent.
After watching a lot of Asian films, the one that impressed me the most was "August Photo Studio". I only remember that the film has the same color tone, the same atmosphere, and the same silence inside and outside the film.
The simple and honest shopkeeper Yong Yuan of the small photo studio, Shen Yinhe who is waiting for the photo to be taken, and the beautiful tree, shouted silently in the midst of incurable disease and imminent death.
Before I had time to say anything, the small photo studio was closed, and it was dim in the autumn.
Shen Yinhe smashed the glass of the photo studio and left.
Yongyuan took a photo of himself and waited silently, waiting for the pre-determined result to come.
A love story without a confession of love.
How often, like the heroine, we stand in front of the door of the years, from hope to disappointment;
More often, like the hero, we use the last bit of strength to take care of it for a while, and then use a pair of scissors called intolerance to cut the suspense kite string and smile behind the lens.
I don't know how many times the film of life can be exposed, all I know is that the power of the flash will get weaker and weaker. Print all the past carefully and hide it in the softest place in my heart. The past may fade, like an old photo, but the imprint of life cannot be erased.
Just yesterday, he was lying among the flowers, his fingers were already cold, but his smile seemed to be as clear as the day before yesterday, and I stood with her in the funeral crowd, still not recovering from the shock.
I also know that if everything comes over again, her choice will still be the same, but it is too hasty. Life is fleeting, so when you are in love, you must speak out. It is better to embrace each other for a while than to pass by.
This August, I don't know what kind of stories we will experience - I look forward to legends every second of every day. If you already have it, please hold it tight and cherish it.
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