What time is it?

12.20 PM; time for another round of checking the Internet.
 
4.10 PM; just about to be off to do an errand or two...
 
Considering how i have a headache that doesnt go away unless i sleep and im sick :/ 12:32
 
10:52 AM stealing the libraries network... hurr... hurr...
 

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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?