"If they aren't pretty when they are dead, then why bother keeping the bodies in my cemetery? Just burn them. Burn all of them, and give me the charming ones." I laughed at how psychotic he sounded; or even how psychotic he was."You're young, why do you even own your own cemetery? That can't even be legal." "Why bother concerning yourself over my affairs? This cemetery-" he quickly corrected himself, "My cemetery is the most luxurious and ravishing of them all." He bent down, and began to whisper in my ear, "And I know, that you, my lamb, understand my funeral style, don't you?"

He's like a machine. He hates to be touched. He hates anything to be non-sanitized. He can't stand human emotion. He fakes a personality, just to seem okay. He hates technology, but is nothing without it. He's a professor to the class, but supposed to be a student. He teaches the same thing everyday, but was meant to be there only to learn. And then he loses control, unable to be a machine any longer, he begins to realize worshiping technology is nothing but a curse. He holds the life of an introvert, the life of a mad man, and he admits to it. All of it. ~~ "You're useless. Nothing but a controlled soul in a shell of a body." "Then just label me a machine, there is nothing more insane than that."