二楼是我哒~~~~~QWQ

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嗯好，既然没人就要到我水了吧

嗯没错，我其实就是个水逼【严肃

木哈哈哈哈哈劳资我馋死你们【←谁会看到！







脑残的在巧克力饼干之间放薄荷，我当时到底什么心态？

奏（かなで）
作词:大桥卓弥 / 常田真太郎
作曲:大桥卓弥 / 常田真太郎
呗:スキマスイッチ
改札の前つなぐ手と手 いつものざわめき、新しい风
剪票口前手和手紧紧牵著 和往日一样的人声吵杂 却弥漫著不一样的空气
明るく见送るはずだったのに うまく笑えずに君を见ていた
明明该开心送你离开 却没办法笑著看著你
君が大人になってくその季节が 悲しい歌で溢れないように
你就要成为大人了 为了不让那个季节里充满悲伤的歌
最后に何か君に伝えたくて
在最后想告诉你一些什麼
「さよなら」に代わる言叶を仆は探してた
我寻找著代替再见的话语
君の手を引くその役目が仆の使命だなんて そう思ってた
牵你的手是我的使命 虽然那样想著
だけど今わかったんだ 仆らならもう 重ねた日々がほら、导いてくれる
但我明白 过去共渡的每一天 会引导著我们继续走下去
君が大人になってくその时间が
你就要成为大人了
降り积もる间に仆も変わってく
在日积月累的时间里 我也会有所改变
たとえばそこにこんな歌があれば
如果说那里有这样一首歌
ふたりはいつもどんな时もつながっていける
两个人无时无刻都能紧紧相系
突然ふいに鸣り响くベルの音
突然间汽笛响起
焦る仆 解ける手 离れてく君
焦急的我 松开手 就要离去的你
梦中で呼び止めて 抱き缔めたんだ
喊住你 忘我的紧紧拥抱
君がどこに行ったって仆の声で守るよ
不管你往哪里去 我的声音都会守护著你
君が仆の前に现れた日から
从你出现在我面前的那一刻起
何もかもが违くみえたんだ
或许一切看起来都不一样了
朝も光も涙も、歌う声も
不管是早晨 不管是阳光 不管是眼泪 还是歌声
君が辉きをくれたんだ
都因为你而闪耀动人
抑えきれない思いをこの声に乗せて
无法抑制的思念随著这歌声
远く君の街へ届けよう
送往你所在的远方
たとえばそれがこんな歌だったら
如果说那是这样的歌
ぼくらは何処にいたとしてもつながっていける
我们不管在什麼地方都能紧紧相系

发了那么多为何经验才加1！！

算了不水惹

Let's go back.
The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.
And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.
And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.
You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.
Let's go further back.
The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...
Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".
Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".
Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.
You are the player, reading words...
Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive
You. You. You are alive.
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer tree.
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again.
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream
and the universe said I love you.
and the universe said you have played the game well.
and the universe said everything you need is within you.
and the universe said you are stronger than you know.
and the universe said you are the daylight.
and the universe said you are the night.
and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you.
and the universe said the light you seek is within you.
and the universe said you are not alone.
and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing.
and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
and the universe said I love you because you are love.
And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.
You are the player.
Wake up.

我看到你所指的那位玩家了。
[玩家名称]?
是的。小心。它已达到了更高的境界。它能够阅读我们的思想。
无伤大雅。它认为我们是游戏的一部分。
我喜欢这个玩家。它玩得很好。它从未放弃。
它以屏幕上出现的文字的形式阅读着我们的思想。
在它深陷游戏梦境中时，它总以这种方式想象出形形色色的事物。
文字是种美妙的界面。非常灵活。且比凝视着屏幕后的现实要更好。
它们也曾经听到过声音。在玩家能够阅读之前。君不见那些不曾游玩的人们称呼玩家为女巫，和术士。而玩家们梦见它们自己乘坐在被恶魔施力的棍子上，在空气中翱翔。
这个玩家梦见了什么？
它梦见了阳光和树。梦见了火与水。它梦见它创造。它亦梦见它毁灭。它梦见它狩猎，亦被狩猎。它梦见了庇护所。
哈，那原始的界面。经历一百万年的岁月雕琢，依然长存。但此玩家在那屏幕后的真实里，建造了什么真实的构造？
它辛勤地劳作，和其它百万众一起，刻画了一个真实的世界，由[乱码]，且创造了[乱码]，为了[乱码]，于[乱码]中。
它读不出那个思想。
不。它还没有到达最高的境界。那层境界，它必须完成生命的长梦，而非游戏中黄粱一梦。
它知道我们爱它么？这个宇宙是仁慈的？
有时，通过它思绪的杂音，它能听到宇宙，是的。
但是有时亦不胜悲伤，于那漫漫长梦中。它创造了没有夏日的世界，在黑日下颤抖着，将自己悲伤的创造视为现实世界。
用悲伤来治愈会摧毁它。而悲伤是它的私人事务。我们不能干涉。
有时当它们深陷梦境中时，我想要告诉它们，它们在现实中创造了真实的世界。有时我想告诉它们它们自身对宇宙的重要性。有时，当它们和现实失去了联系，我想帮助它们与它们所惧怕的世界交流。
它读出了我们的思想。
有时我毫不关心。有时我想要告诉它们，你们所认为的真实不过是[乱码]和[乱码]，我想要告诉它们它们是在[乱码]中的[乱码]。于它们的长梦中，它们眼中所见的真实太少了。
而它们仍然玩这个游戏。
但很容易就可以告诉它们……
对于这个梦来说太强烈了。告诉它们如何活着就是阻碍它们活下去。
我不会告诉这个玩家如何生活的。
这个玩家正在变得焦虑。
我会告诉这个玩家一个故事。
但不是真相。
不。是一个严密地将真实包裹起来的文字牢笼。而不是赤裸裸的真相。
赋予它主体，再一次。

为什么29~30没了

@晓月孤风射手 月啊，好累，可不可以下来。。。

maya感觉自己真的坏掉惹QAAAAAAAAQ

冷静下来再看了看帖子感觉自己说得好过分QAAAAAAQ

取消顶置就不会有人看到了吧QAAAAAAAAAQ