When I was a college student, I was interning for a city council Diet member. It was a very good experience.
 
That vampire told me that he wouldn't even suck my blood because I am too much of a phony.
 
I save all my homework for the weekend so I can spend more time with my family on weekdays.
 

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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?
eatch wrote on Lebedev's profile.