Smallhouse Log

Sunday
"These people over here, these are the D students." -Don Kane, 03/28/2005

"So far so good, or say they say in Mission Control. The deep of space is no place for a fragile human soul. The rockets burn as circles click and turn and fall into their place. Robots can't cry, don't laugh, can't die, in the darkness of space. He is strong! Made of steel, with a graphite lining! Watch his eyes flicker slow like the batteries are dying. Three strands of wire, threefold the tie that binds. She is the one thing on the Earth for which he still pines. To his heart, she is life, so he prays to his maker with a sigh, as his fire flickers out because

robots never cry.

Space Robot V, is he alive?"

or

"I don't want the right to want what's wrong, we're not in any love hexagon; we are way beyond that. But I'm looking for more than just a life of acquisition of boredom; I know there's more than (More than what?) Don't interrupt, or I will self-destruct and distance myself further and refuse to listen. (Oh is that some kind of threat?) No, I quit being so vicious."

"I want to break loose immediately from this hideous idiocy."

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