I wanted her comfort. Her love. And even though bangbus it is bangbus hard for a man bangbus to admit: sometimes sympathy when the day didn't go right. Small bangbus talk bangbus. The little intangible things one can bangbus only get from someone bangbus who really cares, senses our secret needs. The warmth of bangbus someone who cares. The frailty bangbus , the pain they feel FOR US when they can't help, but this itself bangbus helps. All this bangbus was gone. What was bangbus missing was affection, love. Love love love bangbus... even macho guys bangbus really need it. Not something coldly, logically responding to physiological bangbus signs or outward cues based on preset preprogrammed lines of code.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities that couldn't be broken down into data.
Years passed. No one took her place. All that stuff about bangbus one true love, an bangbus irreplaceable bangbus soulmate is true. And I gutted mine like an old building needing bangbus renovation. Yet she remained; a bangbus shiny perfect reminder, a monolith, a gravemarker. A trinity tombstone with three words only: "I love you".
She is working on my brain now. I thank her again bangbus while I still can bangbus trinity. Whoever she is I (feel?) I should thank her for (something?). Her cold eyes do not respond but none-the-less somehow I vaguely bangbus understand that justice has been served. She rips out bangbus more parts bangbus I will no longer need. Replaces them bangbus with wiring and circuit boards. The last thing I bangbus ever remember is the sweet I..ron..ic bangbus trinity agony bangbus of having the main control interface bangbus drilled and then injected painfully bangbus into the base of my bangbus skull. Do machines scream?
I wanted her comfort. Her love. And even though bangbus it is bangbus hard for a man bangbus to admit: sometimes sympathy when the day didn't go right. Small bangbus talk bangbus. The little intangible things one can bangbus only get from someone bangbus who really cares, senses our secret needs. The warmth of bangbus someone who cares. The frailty bangbus , the pain they feel FOR US when they can't help, but this itself bangbus helps. All this bangbus was gone. What was bangbus missing was affection, love. Love love love bangbus... even macho guys bangbus really need it. Not something coldly, logically responding to physiological bangbus signs or outward cues based on preset preprogrammed lines of code.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities that couldn't be broken down into data.
Years passed. No one took her place. All that stuff about bangbus one true love, an bangbus irreplaceable bangbus soulmate is true. And I gutted mine like an old building needing bangbus renovation. Yet she remained; a bangbus shiny perfect reminder, a monolith, a gravemarker. A trinity tombstone with three words only: "I love you".
She is working on my brain now. I thank her again bangbus while I still can bangbus trinity. Whoever she is I (feel?) I should thank her for (something?). Her cold eyes do not respond but none-the-less somehow I vaguely bangbus understand that justice has been served. She rips out bangbus more parts bangbus I will no longer need. Replaces them bangbus with wiring and circuit boards. The last thing I bangbus ever remember is the sweet I..ron..ic bangbus trinity agony bangbus of having the main control interface bangbus drilled and then injected painfully bangbus into the base of my bangbus skull. Do machines scream?