Thank you so much.
The words you have sent me are filled with love, and care.
If I find a specific worry that leaves me immobile with terror, I will come to you for guidance. You are a lovey individual for the care in which you are displaying to such a battered down old scientist. I thank you.
Absolutely not.
She’s a liar. It was built within her system to use whatever means possible to destroy what obstructs her protocol. I created her drive. I would know.
I know that this message is a sorry attempt… that she is pulling the strings.
She does not mean well.
She never does.
I will update you on the crisis at hand.
Thank you…
so much.
Those words mean a lot.
Thank you.
I will cherish them, and use them to keep me going… as long as I can, Miss.
Classified.
Classified.
The concern you show for a lowly scientist such as myself- is convincing enough to let me bend as far as to say that I love you too.
Misery loves company.
I am not alone, polite Miss.
I have companionship, but I also have the drive to carry on until the end.
…
It is not the end.
Not yet.
What?
People say that?
It’s not really what I have, no. I take the medicine, and It helps me overcome it. Paranoid schizophrenia. That’s what they all think- but I know what is going on.
