Many things, ugly or dirty, are inexplicably persistent.
I'm just a humble migrant worker. My biggest wish is to return to my lover who is waiting for me in my hometown. Why can't you let me go?
I am so poor that I only have money left. The only thing I can control and want to control now is you. Why do you still run away at all costs?
The truth is only in my hands. Only I know why two people who clearly love each other keep torturing each other. However, I will not show any kindness to reveal it, never, just because the meaning of tragedy is to destroy beautiful things, then tear them open and show the bloody wounds to everyone. Or maybe my silence and cruelty are just because I am also a victim of this tragedy...