Chapter 769： Heart Melody

Hugo also knew that although his words were not too direct, they still touched Ernst's inverse scale. No one likes to be exposed to the scars in the 520 novel. Although Hugo was cautious just now, he was not so familiar with Ernst after all, and he still made Ernst angry.

Hugo didn't say much, just put the water cup on the coffee table unhurriedly, pursed his lips and smiled, "Thank you for your hospitality." Then he stood up and left straight away.

Ernst sat on the sofa, listening to the sound of the door being closed, motionless, but the whole person was a lot older in an instant, sitting quietly on the spot with his back, when the vinyl record of the phonograph had already been played. , The room fell into a silence again, and the night outside the window seemed to perceive the silence here, and it quietly penetrated in, making the atmosphere of the whole room slowly dimmed.

Hugo arrived on the third floor, but did not rush in. Instead, he looked back at the second floor, only to find that there was no sound coming from the second floor. Hugo could only sigh and open the door of the room and walk in.

I have never experienced the person’s life and never understand the person’s feelings. Just as Ernst didn’t know why Hugo was able to have such clear thinking when he was only twenty-seven years old, Hugo also couldn’t know that Ernst loves and hates Oscars and Hollywood at this moment. Feeling regretful.

Back in the house, everyone did not come back, Hugo will be at home at this point in time, originally intended to go home early to rest, naturally others have not had time to get home. The empty room has a kind of tranquility flowing slowly, making Hugo stand in a daze, and subconsciously put the key into the glass bowl at the door, the crisp sound of collision constantly echoed in the hall, shattering a piece. Quiet.

Hugo stepped forward to the pool table and looked at the lights outside from the window. The lights below the city and the stars in the sky complemented each other, setting off the deep and thick black night sky farther and farther, as if he would never see it. To the marginal.

Hugo found that as his achievements in Hollywood became more and more outstanding, the troubles that followed became more and more. Every step he took was a step forward, and the world he saw with his eyes would be Different colors and shapes are changed, and the people and things that are touched become more and more complicated.

Originally thought that the Oscar statuette would be surrounded by joy-the fact is true, but after chatting with Ernst, Hugo felt heavy in his heart, all kinds of tastes could not be distinguished, countless thoughts could not be sorted out. Perhaps this is the price of growth. There are always many unsolvable problems in life, and every choice will result in a different answer. Maybe someone gets a second chance to live again, and he will live a completely different life, there are third and fourth times. Opportunity, the result will also lead to a different life.

Because, in the multiple choice questions of life, there is no correct answer. After any choice is made, it cannot be changed. There is no room for regret. You can only move forward. Even if you reach the end and look back at your life, only your own heart can make a judgment: What is it like in this life? It is not success or failure, but the ups and downs, happiness and sadness, beauty and ugliness. The taste constituted by a kind of emotion.

Some people pursue money all their lives, some advocate fame and wealth all their lives, some use force to protect themselves, and some live for love and die for love. This is life, there is no right or wrong, no high or low, only oneself knows all kinds of tastes.

Ernst is struggling to find proof of his life value. "West Side Story", "Hello, Dolly", "Dragon Wind" and other works are his life coordinates, but he has never been able to find the light. The light of his life's beacon.

So what about Hugo? What is Hugo chasing, has he ever regretted, regretted, complained, and what emotions and thoughts will he have when he reaches the end of his life?

"He plays cards, like deep meditation. He never hesitates to play cards. He does not play cards for the money he wins, nor for respect. He is looking for answers in the game, the accident in the mysterious geometry, and the The hidden string behind the erratic ending. The numbers are flying. I understand that the spades are like sharp arrows held by soldiers, and the clubs are like the roaring guns of the battlefield. In this artistic game, the squares are like money, but it’s not my red. The shape of a peach (shape. of. my. heart)."

Life is like a game of cards. Each card represents a different choice and a different destiny. Clubs represent power, diamonds represent money, spades represent force, and hearts represent sincerity. These different suits are based on time. The inside is slowly flowing and changing, making people easily lost in the game, unable to find a breakthrough, going around and gradually becoming tired and lonely and timid, looking at the suits in hand, power, money, force, reputation fans Spent my eyes, but all this is not the shape of the true heart (shape.of.my.heart).

This is the confusion of life. Many people have been conscientious and diligent throughout their lives, but in the end, they find that they don’t know why they live. There is no place for "oneself" in the huge world. Is it because the world is too big and I am lost in the colorful temptation and confusion, or I have never realized the true thoughts deep in my heart.

"He may play Jack of Diamonds, or he will bet on the Queen of Spades, or hide the King in his hand, but these memories will eventually fade. I understand that spades are like sharp arrows held by soldiers, and clubs are like guns on the battlefield. Gun, in this artistic game, the cube is like money, but it’s not the shape of my heart."

Hugo used the guitar strings to outline the cold and sad notes, just like the sad and melodious poetry of a bard, humming softly in the night.

The gentle resonance of the guitar strings rippled in the moonlight, weaving the icy strands of the moonlight into the melody, lightly sketching the shape of loneliness. Everyone comes to this world alone and arrives alone; and when everyone leaves this world, they also leave alone, leaving alone.

Everyone is like an isolated island. Standing on this island and watching people come and go, whether it’s money or power, whether it’s fame or force, this island can be very noisy and noisy, but when the night is quiet, the crowds After dissipating, the loneliness will submerge yourself in an instant. Until this moment, you will know that the loneliness of your heart cannot be compensated by matter. It is like a black hole, greedily absorbing everything around you with vitality. There is no end to the existence.

Unless, unless you find the emotion, the firmness, and the recognition that can truly accompany you, so you start to yearn for someone to stay by your side and accompany you through the road where you can’t see the end. But is this so simple?

"If I tell you that I love you, you will be a little bit confused. I am not a fickle person. My mask is always the same. Those who speak but ignorantly care about their immediate gains and losses, just like people who complain about fate. Qi Yushi. I understand that spades are like sharp arrows held by soldiers, and clubs are like guns on the battlefield. In this artistic game, cubes are like money in hand, but they are not in the shape of my hearts."

The entanglement of fate is so tired. Many people have complained about others for their luck and fate all their lives, but they never understand that if they let go, fate will be in the hands of others. Everyone has the qualifications to control his own destiny, just like a card. There are countless possibilities hidden among the four suits, but the right to decide which suit and which card to choose is always in his own hands.

Only those who never understand what they are asking for, and who follow behind others and become inactive, will feel tired, because they don’t know what they can get, and they don’t know what they will lose, money, power, reputation, In their eyes, force is social recognition and a symbol of success, but it is not in their true shape, but no one recognizes it.

In fact, how many people understand their "shape.of.my.heart"? People are always searching in life, trying to find the meaning of survival, the root of happiness, and the The recognition of life, unfortunately, few people can find the answer, because they never understand what the so-called "from the heart" means, the answer lies in themselves, but they try to find the answer from others , Naturally never find it.

Ernst wanted to find the meaning of his screenwriting work from Oscar, so he was confused. He was mixed in hatred and deep love, unable to extricate himself, and his light was gradually concealed by time.

Hugo always knew his pursuit clearly. He kept telling himself that the work is the value the praise of others, the recognition of awards, and the proof of achievements are just additional products.

However, looking at Ernst, Hugo couldn't help but think of Vincent Van Gogh. His works were not accepted by the world for a long time. Until the end of the nineteenth century, the world's thoughts were unprecedented. After the reform, he got the corresponding recognition. But is he happy or sad? Because he was never recognized by the world when he was alive, and his poor life almost wiped out all his talents.

If it is not recognized, just like Van Gogh, just like Ernst, then can Hugo continue to carry on like this? Does he still have such confidence to hold on to the end? Or conversely, he got the Oscar After the initial recognition, this kind of honor and praise that followed, will he be lost, will he be arrogant? What is even more frightening is that Hugo is now standing in this vanity fair, and future troubles , Frustration, hindrance and temptation. The confusion will only increase, can he continue to persevere?

After the entire song was written, Hugo only felt that his heart was empty, and the emptiness after all his emotions had been vented, there was no way to make up for it. (To be continued [provided]. If you like this work, you are welcome to read it and vote for a monthly pass for the work. Your support is the biggest motivation for me to continue to create!)

.