Similar to the “Castle” that Franz Kafka couldn’t get out of, and “Christina’s World” where Andrew Wieth stubbornly wanted to go up the hill, “Red Hills” have a crack in their middle, they are a land full of female vitality.
However the shopping cart carrying the girls repeatedly pushes them down the mountain far away from the “castle” of their inner expectations. Thus, the dreams we once cherished, gradually fade away, and are forgotten by us. We now willingly stay in a safe place, living passively. So we will never see the bachelors beware on the red hills again.
Listen carefully, maybe she is still calling my name in my sweet dream, but the sharp rising dawn has made me forget. I am a delicate and fragile rose, you are a lily of holiness and death. We have become a continuous branch under the experiment, and give birth to temporary pleasure.