From
A man in his prime sits in a cozy pub and enjoys it. A younger man keeps him company, they don’t talk much. Then, as if in celebration of the quiet moment, the elder bursts into explanation, surprising his companion with a confession: “You are my friend. You are my best friend.” Why don’t the spectators feel comfortable? Why does this beautiful scene, which is deepened with various discussions about the meaning of life, only unleash uneasiness?
