"So it's all fake" is the classic phrase that I repeat to myself every time a movie or a TV show make me suffocate in a sea of \u200b\u200btears.
Just yesterday I saw the episode on DVD of "McLeod's Daughters" in which one of the main character, Claire, died in a car accident.
There and then I did my usual, the above phrase, then I felt a lump in my throat if you do not let him vent probably would have killed me, after which I opened the taps and a good half hour there was not plenty for anyone. Basically I have never stopped.
Yet the knowledge that is fiction is very strong, I think we all know perfectly well that no one really dies, and that certainly half a second later, "Claire," specifically, it will be done with laughter and maybe a drink rich in the face ours.
Despite everything, however, we make the suffering of others and we identify ourselves so much in what we're seeing / experiencing, it seems as real as our tears. Take the film "Titanic," for example: I've seen 3000 times and 4000 I cried like a blockhead even Jack was one of my relatives next. We never get used to the pain / pleasure of the movies that we enjoy, unless carefully avoid certain films that stick with him all the thoughts that follow. Malttie terminal type "Philadelphia", "The place of the soul," "Terms of Endearment" and all those torments, agonies and various hospitals.
In that case, "so everything is false" is true for half. The fiction is all there, but when I was younger I had issues that I touched in any way, but today a little 'touch me and terrify me more than it should.
It 'also true that a good cry liberating as what I did yesterday for Claire, it's sometimes a rash sacrosanct.
We charge that I was alone on my couch scomodissmo, immersed in Australian grasslands to cry my favorite heroine, perhaps there has been something better to do, I know, but yesterday went to the convent was that and the other between a sob and I've enjoyed all the thinking that eventually and thankfully, "so it's all fake."
Just yesterday I saw the episode on DVD of "McLeod's Daughters" in which one of the main character, Claire, died in a car accident.
There and then I did my usual, the above phrase, then I felt a lump in my throat if you do not let him vent probably would have killed me, after which I opened the taps and a good half hour there was not plenty for anyone. Basically I have never stopped.
Yet the knowledge that is fiction is very strong, I think we all know perfectly well that no one really dies, and that certainly half a second later, "Claire," specifically, it will be done with laughter and maybe a drink rich in the face ours.
Despite everything, however, we make the suffering of others and we identify ourselves so much in what we're seeing / experiencing, it seems as real as our tears. Take the film "Titanic," for example: I've seen 3000 times and 4000 I cried like a blockhead even Jack was one of my relatives next. We never get used to the pain / pleasure of the movies that we enjoy, unless carefully avoid certain films that stick with him all the thoughts that follow. Malttie terminal type "Philadelphia", "The place of the soul," "Terms of Endearment" and all those torments, agonies and various hospitals.
In that case, "so everything is false" is true for half. The fiction is all there, but when I was younger I had issues that I touched in any way, but today a little 'touch me and terrify me more than it should.
It 'also true that a good cry liberating as what I did yesterday for Claire, it's sometimes a rash sacrosanct.
We charge that I was alone on my couch scomodissmo, immersed in Australian grasslands to cry my favorite heroine, perhaps there has been something better to do, I know, but yesterday went to the convent was that and the other between a sob and I've enjoyed all the thinking that eventually and thankfully, "so it's all fake."
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