Ideal Entertainment

The sky was still dark, and the sea breeze was blowing on the lonely town surrounded by the mountains and the sea.

The tide gently stroked the beach, and the sound of the waves was clear and soothing.

A young man walked far away on the beach, with a dull expression, pursing his lips, carrying an easel and drawing tools, and a flashlight hung around his neck. In the darkest hour before dawn, he walked in the dark and walked along with him. The light of the dangling flashlight walked to the simple wooden dock.

He sat on the very edge, put the small plastic bucket aside, listened to the sound of the ocean, and squeezed the paint onto the palette.

He was wearing clothes with several patches, his hands were red with cold, and his movements of squeezing paint and toning were steady and accurate.

The dazzling colors appeared in his hands little by little, and the young man hung his head slightly, and continued to correct the color without saying a word.

Suddenly, his drooping eyes, which were covered by thick and thick eyelashes, lifted up, and his waveless gaze calmly stared at the sea level that finally revealed a ray of light. In the next moment, he raised his hand and lifted a deep strand of light. Purple smeared drawing paper.

Chaoyang was born, the boy finished a beautiful and bright painting, then stood up, carrying the tools and the finished painting, turned his head to the few townspeople who came to the pier and got up early to go to sea along the low tide, hesitant and slow. Nodded.

Most of the men who went out to sea were mature men. They had smiles on their faces, and greeted the teenagers with a cheerful and generous grin, revealing the gully that had been blown by the sea breeze on their faces.

The boy stayed awkwardly in the same place for two seconds, then turned and left the dock.

The beginning of the film is peaceful and warm.

From the back of the teenager slowly leaving, the picture cuts into the bright and cozy psychological counseling room.

The boy was surrounded by a mother with a warm smile, and opposite was a kind and gentle psychiatrist, while the boy was sitting on a soft sofa with warm water in his hands, exerting extremely hard, his knuckles were white. His drooping eyes trembled uncomfortably, and occasionally when he raised his eyes to look at the doctor dressed in calm and warm casual clothes, the cautiousness and obsession in his eyes hardly required any extra guesswork from others.

The boy fell in love with this man.

Both his mother and the doctor he likes hope that he can successfully integrate into the crowd.

After many times of guidance, the young man finally nodded and said okay, the corners of his mouth had a slight curvature, and disappeared in a moment.

The town is very good, the school is very good, and the neighbors are very hospitable and honest, and if they have extra seafood, they will bring some to them, mother and child.

Except that occasionally a skinny kid will say he is a nerd, everything is fine.

Fortunately, the teenager feels that he can get rid of the fear in his heart-although he still needs to take some antidepressants and antipsychotics to maintain his state.

But it is undeniable that his fear and rejection of others has gradually decreased.

He also realized his feelings and stopped going to the psychologist who was a full four-hour drive away from home.

One year later, the boy sorted out his paintings in his small attic.

He turned out the ferocious stormy waves and dark clouds that had been smeared in the past, secretly put them into the stove at home, and burned them completely.

He should make up his mind to say goodbye to the past.

The boy thought so.

But things changed too quickly and caught off guard.

Because he was not in the classroom for the time being, the classmate who received the homework opened his schoolbag and prepared to take out the homework by himself. As a result, the homework was not found, but he saw the medicine inside.

And the few pictures of doctors carefully collected by the teenager.

It was as if the dream was shattered, and the black and sweet dreamland finally woke up.

The small town can accept an introverted dull boy, but it cannot accept a mentally ill person, let alone a homosexual.

The sky changed suddenly.

The squally wind and torrential rain pounded down, and the sky was torn apart by thunder and lightning.

The warm and calm tone faded with the sunset, and the cold rain and the gust of wind that would almost blow the entire town occupied the entire screen.

The drenched boy who was still stained with mud and water shivered and returned home, closing the door, without awakening his mother who was resting in the house.

He silently took a shower, silently washed his clothes, silently rubbed alcohol on several bruises and scratches on his body, and then silently returned to his small attic.

The teenager's back looked a little ugly and rickety.

He swarmed on the mattress in the narrow and dark attic, turned off the light, listened to the sound of rain falling on the roof close at hand, and buried himself in the quilt.

The boy had a dream.

Dreaming that nothing has changed.

When I go out, I can see the smiling faces of my neighbors' uncles. When I go to the pier, I can get a small bag of sea goods by Uncle, who has returned from the sea. When I go to school, I can see my classmates laughing and playing, and occasionally bring him together.

But the thunder of reality awakened him, and several wounds on his body were still aching due to the friction of the bedding.

The indifference of neighbors, the disgust and isolation of classmates, and even individual bullying, the attitude of people in the small town that they shunned like bed bugs made the teenagers trance.

What am i doing wrong?

What am I wrong?

The teenager shut himself in a small attic, no longer went out, and no longer went to school.

He just kept asking himself, asking his mother if he did something wrong.

The mother hugged him and whispered, saying that he was not wrong.

No, I must be wrong.

The boy thought so.

It was his fault to be disgusted by people, and it was his fault to be accused of questioning, making my mother always worry that it was his fault to cry.

Otherwise, why would no one else be treated like this and wouldn't make my mother cry, only he would?

The boy was taken to the psychologist by his mother again.

He described being thin, tired and haggard, and his eyes were full of blackness.

He looked at the doctor with a calm expression, neither happy nor sad.

It is also wrong to like doctors.

The young man was silent, once again wrapped his own world in a thick cocoon, lowered his eyes, staring at his fingertips, no matter how the doctor and mother guided and persuaded, there was no movement at all.

The doctor was silent for a moment, and called the boy's mother out of the office.

At this moment, the boy raised his eyes and glanced blankly at the corner of the lavender knitted coat that doctors always like to wear. After only about a second, he withdrew his eyes and listened to the gentle closing of the office door. sound.

They cannot travel to and from the town in one day, and usually stay for one night in the cheapest guest house nearby.

Fifty yuan a night, a single bed, sleeping two people.

Because guest houses are cheap and do not require ID cards, anyone can live in.

In the afternoon, the boy was lying on the bed, watching the billboard that could catch a corner outside the window with his eyes open. His mother was still with the doctor.

He heard a heavy knock on the door, but he just lay quietly on the bed, as if the knock on the door didn't exist.

It wasn't until the knock at the door finally stopped that he sat up slowly and slowly and walked to the door.

Open the door, and there is a person lying in the doorway.

To be precise, it was a corpse.

The cause of death was drug overdose.

Maybe I was asking for help just now.

The young man quietly looked at the cruel and painful corpse for a while, as if he was thinking about something, but he didn't seem to think about anything.

Then he squatted down, carefully rummaged through the clothes on this person, and calmly put away a few syringes and a few crudely packaged liquids. After that, as if nothing happened, he closed the door quietly and lay down again. On the bed.

When everyone didn't realize it and didn't expect it at all, the teenager hid in his small attic and injected himself with the first thing he shouldn't touch.

He felt his mood and body improved a lot in an instant.

With his mind in a state of extreme excitement, the boy once again went to school with his schoolbag on his back.

Then, when he was surrounded by a few tall and strong students, he picked up a sharp stone and made a hole in their heads.

The residents of the town are boiling!

It was as hot as a pan with hot water.

They blocked the door of the boy's house, angrily asking them to get out, asking them to leave here.

And the teenager's mother was in the small attic, looking at the abandoned syringes and the expressionless son who had finished injecting the last liquid in disbelief. Amidst the shouts of the people downstairs, the cry of collapse was heard. Turned around and left the cramped attic.

The boy seemed to hear nothing.

He sat cross-legged calmly in front of the small attic, sorting out his own small world, and then when the sky was getting dark and the outside sound gradually disappeared, he left behind his own packaged paintings, and left those discarded syringes. On the top, as before, carrying the easel and drawing tools, the flashlight hung around his neck, and left home.

The teenager sat by the sea all night.

The sea breeze at night was so cold that he didn't seem to notice it.

Until the morning sun rose, he seemed to be inspired by something, and walked towards the sea.

The sun gradually rose, and a seagull landed on the easel that the boy had set aside and hadn't moved at all.

Painting tools and easels were quietly placed on the edge of the sand castle half-stacked by the teenager. On the drawing paper pasted on the drawing board, a magnificent and bright painting was half completed.

The still very wet color palette was carefully placed on a small cloth stool. In a small plastic bucket filled with water, a touch of warm orange slowly dissipated. It seems that the master of this painting has just put down the brush in his hand and got up. Leave in general.

The sound of the waves is refreshing and pleasant, the soft and warm brilliance of the morning sun falls on the surface of the water, and with the chirping of seabirds, a new day has begun.

Chu Qiu stared at the newspaper blankly, and for a long while, was awakened by the light.

Sure enough, it is the standard Guo Kuang-style blank.

Chu Qiu rubbed his face fiercely. No matter how many times he watched it, he felt that this kind of ending setting made people feel an irresistible warmth.

Especially after the suicide episode, the remaining hope is particularly bright.

Chu Qiu stood up, looked down at his watch, and took another look at the film that was about to be shown next, and decided to take his time today.

Chu Qiu walked to the door, but was stopped by someone.

The man has a beard, curly hair, a fat body, and a friendly smile on his face.

Chu Qiu glanced at the card on his chest. It was different from the purple guest pass that Chu Qiu was carrying. The man was holding a green invite pass.

In other words, it is a film critic or an invited industry insider.

"You are..." The man looked at Chu Qiu carefully, a little unsure.

Most Europeans and Americans who don't have much contact with Asians are a bit blind to Asians, which is why Chu Qiu is too lazy to cover up.

Of course, a large part of it is because basically no one knows him here, and it is inside the film exhibition hall, so naturally there is no need to cover up.

But to his surprise, he was recognized.

The man slapped his forehead and called out his name accurately: "Chu Qiu!"

The pronunciation in Chinese is a bit lame, but it is very friendly.

With his shout, several people not far away turned around and looked at the starring movie that suddenly appeared in surprise.

Chu Qiu felt like a sheep that had strayed into the wolf pack, and this group of enthusiastic and generous members of Country M immediately overwhelmed him.

The author has something to say: Chu Qiu:? ? ? ?

Qi Tianrui: @张强@张强@张强, what do you think of children?

Zhang Dali: ...Get out!