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."

"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?"