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废柴兔很忠贞

废柴兔就认IE为攻!用火狐有乱码,用Google Chrome也有乱码!我还以为Google Chrome是IE内核的,原来是Safari……现在我就差个Opera没用过了……-_,-

X档案电影第二部相当腐,里面Skinner抱住被迷倒的Mulder说I got you的时候让我深刻感到这个CP的不可挡……

俺又要写论文了,俺跟着你们在(不放假的)国庆玩耍是不对的,哭……

Long time no see,鸡毛蒜皮

娘说,祖国就是母亲,母亲就是祖国。所以昨天我们去给祖国过生日了(……)
去四川饭店吃了顿,后又去全世界最贵的商店Harrods逛了圈,看到两件值得一提的东西,一个是这玩意:

四千七百五十英镑一公斤!!!的蘑!!这是一小撮蘑
和折人民币五万多一公斤,和虫草有的一署x了,但这傷ヲ除オ能有虫草的疗效暑N!?
和折人民币五万多一公斤,和虫草有的一拼了,但这蘑能有虫草的疗效!?
我们估计了下,这笼子里的蘑大概有20g左右,也就是说得80镑,80镑的蘑啊……(目远)
后来还看见这个:


女王凤梨啊,QUEEN PINEAPPLE
这是给云小纵看的,処ン家69女王命障\看是逃不脱了(滚!)
据说比普通凤梨要甜……処ン来伦敦俺买给処ン吃>w<

这是给云小纵看的,你家69女王命运看是逃不脱了(滚!)
据说比普通凤梨要甜……你来伦敦俺买给你吃>w<

说完这个说正事(顺序好像反了)
荒城重建差不多啦,麻烦大家重新注册后不要手软地去搬文吧>_<
在这里我要不厌其烦地推荐评分系统,在每帖右下角,【引用 使用道具 报告 评分 回复 TOP 】,任何人都可以评分哦!请不要大意地在回复的同时给文章评分吧!RP指数,文艺指数,后娘指数,亲娘指数,随挑>_< 懒得回复光评分也OK啦……

亲友团快点来暗箱操作竞争版主啊(喂)

正事说完了……接着胡扯。

学校的日本社团里今年终于来了几个正宗日本人,一个叫YUKI一个叫SHINICHI,我和某女凑上去问kanji怎么写,居然真的是“新一”……我们没敢问他是不是姓工藤……orz

好奇的人进来看照片,小心伤眼|||||||

...続きを読む

Happy birthday

to whom it may concern

I'm in a posh mindset at the moment.

I have recently lost all things to say here, the word busy doesn’t even begin to describe the hectic state of my well-being at the moment. I am writing thus, in another language, one that I am forced to use everyday, and perhaps would better express my feelings. This goes to myself, and those who can be bothered to make the effort of reading it. It is the likes of you, who I value greatly.

First thing that sits on my mind so often now, is the confusion that how a person, so determinedly wanting to be devoid of responsibilities, can end up with so many.

I have not the least ambition in power or position, much less wealth, I would ask only that enough to sustain a reasonable living, perhaps allowing myself to do daily groceries at Marks&Spencers. Harrods and Bond Street are for window-shopping, and I have no desire whatsoever to become one of the tight-lipped, needle-heeled, anorexic or otherwise hungover celebrities that walk through these empty streets, no matter how glittering their Dior or Prada looks on them.

Turn the corner and we come to Oxford Street, perhaps one of the most famed streets in the world, more lively, vibrant, yet somewhat lacking in class - Here we have Lillywhites, cheap sportswear that everyone buys in bundles but later chuck away the bag because it is embarrassing to be seen going around carrying them.

The things you wonder, when you are slap right in the middle of Central London. I am five-minutes away from Waterloo, and I can see the London Eye from my window. The Houses of Parliament also. If I squinted a little, I can read the time from the Big Ben. And the definite resonate of the Bell at every hour, even deep into the night.

Sometimes when emotions are fragile, I cannot help but be afraid. The Big Ben strikes just now, as if in accordance to my words.

While most people regard this year as the second year of undergraduate study, it is also the penultimate year. Most also agree university is the best years of youth. You either get totally wasted, a chance you won’t have again when you evolve into responsible adults, or you can be productive and go on to do great things, at the hidden expense of… let’s just say, the mainstream isn’t capable of great things.

It’s a big scary world out there, and I’m peeking over the windowsills. This alone is enough to make me feel damn frightened.

I have no work experience save the one-week compulsory attendance at a Chinese community; my only volunteering experience was with Stonewall - it may be the largest gay-rights advancement charity in the UK, but it’s not mainstream like Oxfam. I’m sorry, but I just don’t give a sh*t about Oxfam, ChristianAid, PETA, NCPCA, or GreenPeace. By staring at the blank document that sits forever under the name My CV, I cannot help but feel an overwhelming sense of defeat. There isn’t one part of me that I’d proudly present to the outside world and say confidently, “none of you can do this but me”.

The only achievement I’ve been praised so often on is my ability to wield two languages, and that also, by chance, is the only achievement which I do not take pride in myself. So I am bilingual, and can speak English perhaps better than most Chinese ever will. So I don’t have a typical Chinese accent, instead sound like a British-born, or even close to a Royal. What difference does it make? One can just as easily get directions by asking, “Big Ben, where to?”, rather than initiating a proper British enquiry, “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but could you possibly tell me which is the best way to the Houses of Parliament?”

I smile politely every time someone tells me how they admire my English. But how can one feel proud of something they did not willingly achieve? I was dropped in by the deep end, forced, pushed, made to speak the language. So that I will understand when I’m being insulted with a smile, so that I can tell them Hong Kong is not a part of Japan. I learnt English en-route, needing no textbooks or oral teachers, only the fierce determination to prove to them that I was not stupid. I have now done exactly that, yet feel otherwise.

The friend, my first friend at Camden, the girl who carefully explained to me the word ‘fart’, now relies on me for any word with more than four syllables. When group writing a poster, the job to pen the sentences so that they will be succinct and accurate, is down to me. The surprise on my professors’ face when they discover I only arrived in London seven years ago not knowing a word. The bewilderment they express when I start talking entirely if not more fluidly in Mandarin or the dialect, in between English words.

Moments such as these I treasure, but from a resentful heart. Not truly an achievement in the purest sense, but a payback, an ‘in-your-face’ remark to all the snide laughter and malevolent comments I have received in the early years. Yet the feeling of hallowness will never go away, because I have lost contact with all those who have looked down upon me, and my improvement is almost certainly lost on them.

It both annoys and pains me to think that while I involuntarily care so much for their petty words and deeds, they remain oblivious of it all their life.

Every single one of my rants come back to the same topic, I know, I bore myself. Yet I can’t help but wonder when I can truly let go, of the self-pity and self-pride that are both so extreme they are like venom, like nightmares, so vividly that they return to me like a haunting ghost.

The time for carefree youth is long since gone. Troubled adolescence kicks in perhaps later than it should have. One become more daring, less limited to imagination. I have already done things that pushes my usual self-limits, and the consequences, if there ever shall be a consequence, remains to be seen.

Hence I conclude, perhaps without the remotest idea what I just wrote in the past one-thousand words. Occasionally there is no one better to talk to but yourself.

这个世界……

我觉得相当神奇,我告诉了服务商不要续我的空间和域名,服务商答应了,银行付款的合同也中止了,那么原本21日该过期的空间域名为何到了现在还能访问?这是为啥?
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宇宙中心膨胀

四叶草中的守望者

vv

Author:vv
We pile up love and memories and join two lives and run together

永恒的爱是白。
除此之外,这几年来,似乎别无其他。
又像是容易爬墙的人,也有个后宫,但骨子里很念旧,一旦喜欢上,或是喜欢过,那就难以忘记。
一直自私地想绑在身边永远不要成为过去式的是aa,若木,和云。
另外,我想我也是喜欢你的。至少在你看着我的这一刻。

指路牌上的文字

 

轻描淡写的日子→废言/流水账
全民性格大普查→问卷
书页里的绿脉签→同人/文章
梦的边境线→照片/PS图
东倒西歪的储藏柜→资源/值得珍藏的东西

踩地毯出入平安


爱和人品的证明

  
  
  
 
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What's in the Box?


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