[LPW #191] The Choice of Steins;Gate

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When I look back on my childhood, I'm amazed at how I could do so many things without reflecting on the consequences.
 
Apparently he raised the price of the bell shaped charm since I told him that I was a tourist, but I felt a little sorry for him, so I didn't say anything and paid the price he told me anyway.
 
I was reading Hawthorne's "The Great Stone Face" that I borrowed from a library in the bath and thoughtlessly soaked it in bathwater.
 
We raised our children in a neighboring town, then my husband and I moved to this town after they grew up.
 
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A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?