The time on the plane is actually great. Although brief and disconnected from the world, it can be a period that belongs solely to oneself.

Three to four hours spent reading a book, or fully immersing oneself in a movie without missing a single frame from short videos, can sometimes be healing!

The version of "Breaking Hell" I watched this time was uncut,

which presented the details of death and embalming more intricately. I felt choked up several times during the viewing.

I think this emotional response is not really about "death" itself, but more like a forced confrontation with oneself and the surroundings—it's about going back to examine one's own "hell" after watching.

The details of embalming in the film are laid out completely: the weight of the body, rigidity, arranging, covering, closing. There is no poetry, no jump cuts, and no deliberate avoidance.

It makes me realize a very calm yet cruel fact: everyone will eventually reach this point, regardless of whether your life was dignified, understood, or reconciled.

So when a person reaches this step, the most tragic thing is not what was said in the skit: "Did the person leave without spending all their money?" Obviously not.

There are some things that, if not said, will truly never have the chance to be said; some relationships, if not faced, will be directly settled by time; some emotions you think you can "deal with later" are actually quietly consuming you.

Master Namo breaks the hell for the deceased; that ritual, besides guiding the deceased, is actually ringing a bell for the living.

The plane continues to fly smoothly forward, the world outside is compressed into layers of clouds and light. I feel as if I have been stripped of my daily identity, roles, and labels, leaving just a very simple "person."

When we are alive, we are too good at avoiding, which makes it difficult to extricate ourselves from the endless regrets of hell.

To parents: understanding comes too late, self-esteem is too rigid.

To partners: wanting to be seen, yet fearing to expose vulnerability.

To oneself: not forgiving, not letting go, not allowing failure.

To the past: clearly over, yet repeatedly replaying in the mind.

We avoid expression, avoid conflict, avoid vulnerability, and also avoid admitting: some hard self-esteem is merely a shell of fear.

The most ruthless aspect of "Breaking Hell" is that it doesn't tell you "how to live your life"; it repeatedly puts a question in front of you:

If today were the end, is there any relationship or part of yourself that you have always known you should face but have never dared to touch?

I am grateful for this buffer zone on the plane!

The deceased need to break hell, but for the living, if they keep dragging it out without breaking, hell will become a state of daily life.

免责声明：本文章仅代表作者个人观点，不代表本平台的立场和观点。本文章仅供信息分享，不构成对任何人的任何投资建议。用户与作者之间的任何争议，与本平台无关。如网页中刊载的文章或图片涉及侵权，请提供相关的权利证明和身份证明发送邮件到support@aicoin.com，本平台相关工作人员将会进行核查。