 But I have not college seen the slightest hint that the spark of life remains. In all the years round since, she is the sum of her program and nothing roundandbrown more. I have watched for the slightest spontaneity morris. It is round absent. She remains perfect. And I remain roundandbrown a helpless master. A slave that maintains her college slavery round. I can do nothing roundandbrown else roundandbrown. I am a monster. The monster she begged me to be. The lonely monster outside of society. The creature that loathes itself. The thing that must forever destroy what and it loves. Because it loves it and can do nothing else. Because it is... asked.
 Years college passed. No one took her place. All that stuff college about one true love, an all irreplaceable soulmate college is true. And I gutted mine like an old building needing renovation. Yet she remained; a shiny perfect reminder, a monolith, a gravemarker. A tombstone with three words only: "I love you".
 A dozen needles plunging brown mercilessly into roundandbrown my manhood to hold me inside her forever. Behold the man. Judgment round. Acid round fire pumping into me as she took her turn pumping me full. The all chemicals blurred my mind. She begins to tell me how round I will serve. What my function will round be. She will not release me. She is merciless. She is the sum of her program. I am ready for robotization. Ready for revenge. Ready to round be submerged in a round prison of steel. Helpless morris brown college like round she was once morris. I wonder if my soul will be able to roundandbrown escape this unliving coffin. If I can escape then round maybe she too brown was and freed long ago. Somehow this does not ease my mind. I do not believe it. I think round I know I have damned us both round to a soulless roundandbrown steel eternity. But still hope she escaped round. I feel her begin college to make the alterations, adding hardware, inserting morris brown college things, giving injections, preparing round the program to and run. The process round is well underway. She morris pumps me full roundandbrown of all the round things I used on her. Irony and steel. Microchips come to brown life and now unnecessary synapses burn out. The smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the room. She will make me like her. She has been programmed. She is everything I hoped she would be, and now I round had to pay for making her so perfect. All mad scientists must invariably end roundandbrown the same way. This too is an ironic cliche. A delicious one.
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