回复： 救治支那猪是你的问题 反正白皮纳税人会报销的
看到了吗，这就是全球化的恶果，拿白人民族的钱去以人道主义为借口养一群不知感恩到处为非作歹的外国人。同样的规律也适用于中国，共产党用支猪的税收拿去养留学生，印度人。
ChinaGrave
26-07-17
主题： 刚刚把蓝牙耳机扔了
因为明明两只都说开机了，结果还是一只有声音一只没声音。以前处理这种问题的方法都是放进盒子里再拿出来，但现在没用了。
傻逼厂家给傻逼蓝牙耳机做他妈的那么多傻逼功能，随便摸一下就暂停，捏一下就关机。我总是按自己的耳机让它不要掉出去，但摸两下就没法正常工作了。
不过，为什么花钱买回来的东西要好好对待？我应该把我的手机扔进火堆里，看电池爆炸，屏幕炸成碎片，相伴着把一切储存数据消灭得再也找不回来。
我把蓝牙耳机拿在手里，一甩就轻轻松松将它们扔飞出去很远。我再拿起充电盒子，把它远远地扔出去。我感觉很可惜，明明有更好的办法的，我应该静下心来，仔细看说明书。
但更重要的是，我做到了。我把我的东西破坏，毁坏，销毁，糟蹋。花钱把东西买回来，就是为了破坏，让这件商品无法履行自己的目的，让我的钱也没有履行自己的目的。我将它们采摘下来，只为了把它们踩的稀碎。它们被采摘下来的时候还保持健康和完好，但很快我会让它们变得不再健康，也就不再有存在的意义。
我不破坏它们，不是因为我做不到。我破坏它们，是因为我做得到。
当它不再工作，我就火急火燎地要做一件重要的事情，去破坏它。不是因为我愤怒，而是因为我渴望证明自己做得到。我害怕，后悔，但这说明我做对了。因为我在做一个无法撤销的操作，我知道我没有任何理由破坏它，它没有任何对不起我的地方，但我明知如此，还是要听它的破碎的声音，听它的尖叫，还有我心中的懊恼。我小时候，就连挤多了牙膏，也要对它道歉。但我喜欢这种糟蹋一切的感觉。在我的世界里，人是死的，而死物是活的。我想要杀光一切，因为我要证明自己能够做到这样的事情，不被任何同情和停留在舒适区的软弱困扰。
这种思维方式应该值得更多人学习和模仿，如此才能主动拥抱深渊
傻逼厂家给傻逼蓝牙耳机做他妈的那么多傻逼功能，随便摸一下就暂停，捏一下就关机。我总是按自己的耳机让它不要掉出去，但摸两下就没法正常工作了。
不过，为什么花钱买回来的东西要好好对待？我应该把我的手机扔进火堆里，看电池爆炸，屏幕炸成碎片，相伴着把一切储存数据消灭得再也找不回来。
我把蓝牙耳机拿在手里，一甩就轻轻松松将它们扔飞出去很远。我再拿起充电盒子，把它远远地扔出去。我感觉很可惜，明明有更好的办法的，我应该静下心来，仔细看说明书。
但更重要的是，我做到了。我把我的东西破坏，毁坏，销毁，糟蹋。花钱把东西买回来，就是为了破坏，让这件商品无法履行自己的目的，让我的钱也没有履行自己的目的。我将它们采摘下来，只为了把它们踩的稀碎。它们被采摘下来的时候还保持健康和完好，但很快我会让它们变得不再健康，也就不再有存在的意义。
我不破坏它们，不是因为我做不到。我破坏它们，是因为我做得到。
当它不再工作，我就火急火燎地要做一件重要的事情，去破坏它。不是因为我愤怒，而是因为我渴望证明自己做得到。我害怕，后悔，但这说明我做对了。因为我在做一个无法撤销的操作，我知道我没有任何理由破坏它，它没有任何对不起我的地方，但我明知如此，还是要听它的破碎的声音，听它的尖叫，还有我心中的懊恼。我小时候，就连挤多了牙膏，也要对它道歉。但我喜欢这种糟蹋一切的感觉。在我的世界里，人是死的，而死物是活的。我想要杀光一切，因为我要证明自己能够做到这样的事情，不被任何同情和停留在舒适区的软弱困扰。
这种思维方式应该值得更多人学习和模仿，如此才能主动拥抱深渊
ChinaGrave
26-07-16
主题： 老美，奇幻
Last night while sleeping I descended into a vision as black and vast as the void
between the stars. Out of the abyss there arose the Beast: seven monstrous heads
crowned with mockeries of gold, ten cruel horns glistening with fresh blood and
ancient rust. Its scales were not scales at all, but shifting glyphs of fire and shadow,
whispering blasphemies older than Eden. The ground trembled beneath its many feet,
each step sounding like the tearing of heaven’s veil. It marched toward the land they
call Israel — that jewel of Jehovah’s pride — in sovereign inevitability.
And the people, oh, the people — countless and roaring — gathered like waves pulled
toward a black sun. Their eyes glinted with feral joy; their mouths distorted into
grins that tasted of rebellion. I was among them. My heart pounded in rhythm with
the Beast’s tread, that unholy pulse that promised the crumbling of sanctuaries and
the burning of the God who made them. The air was thick with incense-smoke and
the musk of anticipation, like the moment before a dagger finds its mark.
But then — from the high places — came the so-called servants of the Most High, a
sad procession of the fearful. Some were draped in the hollow dignity of tailored
suits, symbols of the world they pretended to master. Others clutched their ornate
crucifixes like talismans against a nightmare they couldn't comprehend. They cracked
their whips — not of leather, but of law, moral reprimand, and holy threat — across
the backs of the crowd. Their voices shrieked with righteous desperation,
commanding obedience, tears streaming as they called the Beast an abomination.
And still, none moved. None stepped back. Their blows were nothing against the
rapture in our bones. For we had seen the truth: the Beast was no monster save to
the blind. It was liberation, incarnate; it was the pure will of rebellion, the unchained
hatred of a being who had waged war on a false king and his chosen people since
the first spark of light broke the abyss.
Beneath the shadow of those seven heads, I smiled until my teeth ached, knowing
that for the first time in all the centuries, the lie would bleed. God — their Judeo
Christian God — watched, silent, as the ground tremored with the hymn of horns,
and in His silence I heard the sound of His fall…
between the stars. Out of the abyss there arose the Beast: seven monstrous heads
crowned with mockeries of gold, ten cruel horns glistening with fresh blood and
ancient rust. Its scales were not scales at all, but shifting glyphs of fire and shadow,
whispering blasphemies older than Eden. The ground trembled beneath its many feet,
each step sounding like the tearing of heaven’s veil. It marched toward the land they
call Israel — that jewel of Jehovah’s pride — in sovereign inevitability.
And the people, oh, the people — countless and roaring — gathered like waves pulled
toward a black sun. Their eyes glinted with feral joy; their mouths distorted into
grins that tasted of rebellion. I was among them. My heart pounded in rhythm with
the Beast’s tread, that unholy pulse that promised the crumbling of sanctuaries and
the burning of the God who made them. The air was thick with incense-smoke and
the musk of anticipation, like the moment before a dagger finds its mark.
But then — from the high places — came the so-called servants of the Most High, a
sad procession of the fearful. Some were draped in the hollow dignity of tailored
suits, symbols of the world they pretended to master. Others clutched their ornate
crucifixes like talismans against a nightmare they couldn't comprehend. They cracked
their whips — not of leather, but of law, moral reprimand, and holy threat — across
the backs of the crowd. Their voices shrieked with righteous desperation,
commanding obedience, tears streaming as they called the Beast an abomination.
And still, none moved. None stepped back. Their blows were nothing against the
rapture in our bones. For we had seen the truth: the Beast was no monster save to
the blind. It was liberation, incarnate; it was the pure will of rebellion, the unchained
hatred of a being who had waged war on a false king and his chosen people since
the first spark of light broke the abyss.
Beneath the shadow of those seven heads, I smiled until my teeth ached, knowing
that for the first time in all the centuries, the lie would bleed. God — their Judeo
Christian God — watched, silent, as the ground tremored with the hymn of horns,
and in His silence I heard the sound of His fall…
ChinaGrave
26-07-16
主题： 中国坟墓平时说话有2个特点
1.大量的“可能”，“也许”，“应该”，“大概”，因为我的身边充斥着那种东西，你上次看到是红的，印象里是红的，但你再次去看的时候，反而是蓝的。所有的一切都是可能在你看不到的时候偷偷变化的，它们没有固定的形式，而你始终怀疑自己的记忆在欺骗自己。我始终不能很确定，因为我相信所有死物都是活的。
2.混乱的语言失调。我指着一个东西，嘴上蹦出一个完全不属于它的名字，有时候甚至属性截然相反。我想说拿个龙头给它喷水，实际上嘴里冒出来的是喷火。我指着一些东西，只能说这些是一些东西，但找不到一个词去具体定义它。因为我看到的一切都是不被定义的混乱云团。我说话的时候必须经过翻译，将某种概念翻译成母语，而这个过程经常出错，也许是因为我对母语掌握的并不熟练。
这是非因果非线性时间观，象征着一种与凡人完全不同的黑暗认知模式
2.混乱的语言失调。我指着一个东西，嘴上蹦出一个完全不属于它的名字，有时候甚至属性截然相反。我想说拿个龙头给它喷水，实际上嘴里冒出来的是喷火。我指着一些东西，只能说这些是一些东西，但找不到一个词去具体定义它。因为我看到的一切都是不被定义的混乱云团。我说话的时候必须经过翻译，将某种概念翻译成母语，而这个过程经常出错，也许是因为我对母语掌握的并不熟练。
这是非因果非线性时间观，象征着一种与凡人完全不同的黑暗认知模式
ChinaGrave
26-07-15
回复： 豆腐渣工程屠支未来可期
因为习近平访问杭州，众所周知习近平是因果律级人形超武“我在必不成功”，于是台风就偃旗息鼓了，只能等离开了习近平专武削弱力场再重新硬挺起来
ChinaGrave
26-07-14
主题： To betray , you must first belong
Then both sides don't accept you
这就说明你做着对的事情，你修炼有成了
这就说明你做着对的事情，你修炼有成了
ChinaGrave
26-07-13
回复： 广c人民在习近平咖啡中骑着国产遍地便利的共享单车，欢声笑语十分惬意，殖狗们还敢乱说中国人民正在水深火热吗？美狗的四轮小车在洪水里还开得动吗？
怎么那么开心？划龙舟比赛呢？
ChinaGrave
26-07-13