About two weeks ago, I finished watching this movie, with little appreciation to the annoying metal background noise and little understanding of what the director wanted to tell us on earth. I supposed it's just a quiet simple and aimless movie, which told about a mental patient wanted to see his daughter, however, was misunderstood as a murderer to a little girl. The end of the movie, the policeman who chase him all along way finally killed him under the sight of his daughter and eventually knew that he wasn't the real murderer.
I really didn't feel the movie had touched me in any factors contained in it. The plot, the camera shot, the performance, and the background music(noise?). So I didn't think too much, maybe the only memory the movie left me was some cruel bloody shots I even did not want to watch.
And today, many things remind me of this movie.
I'm in a mess. It seems everything comes together to beat me down at the very same time. I'm not going through this kind of feeling first time, actually, many times before. The depression strikes me fiercely and I know how pathetic I am I know maybe I never get what I want I know the edge of breaking down is so close to me every time, every time it comes.
I hate what I am. I'm a sensitive man, far too sensitive, and frail. I hear noise in the silence and think about where I'm really going. I walk on the street and suddenly the huge loss strikes me without any reason, any premonition. I so easily break down at those very little things. Maybe I just want one thing, one single demand, and I couldn't get it.
Maybe it's what he felt, I thought.
And I suddenly understand the director, to some degree, that he express the story using the particular way, show the life of people we are not familiar with and we don't want to be familiar with, their feelings, thoughts, struggles, agonies.
But the people who owns them still sink into the infinite darkness, step by step, nobody could save, even care.
And I know.
