Character: D-503

Our gods are here with us in the Office, in the kitchen, in the Studio, in the bathroom; the gods have become like us: ergo, we have become like gods. And to you, my unknown planetary readers, we will come to make your life divinely reasonable and accurate as ours...

Is all of this madness is love, jealousy is not only idiotic ancient books? And most importantly - me! Equations, formulas, numbers and... this is nothing! Nothing...

A true algebraic love of mankind will certainly inhuman, and an indispensable sign of truth is its cruelty.

Love requires, Yes, ruthlessly.

Everything in human society is infinitely improved and should be improved. What a hideous weapon was the ancient whip - and how much beauty...

Since there is such an ice breaker, which could crack the clearest and strongest crystal of our life...

Finally it is here - and does it matter where "here"is.

All life in all its complexity and beauty is forever saccarina in gold words.

The wall is the basis of all human...

Ideal where nothing happens...

Isn't it from here that the most settled form of life is also one of the most perfect.

But before the weapons we experience the word.

I am silent. I enthusiastically (and probably stupid) smile, look in her eyes, Purebeau from one to the other, and each of them see themselves: I'm tiny, millimeter - imprisoned in these tiny rainbow prisons. And then again - bees - lips - sweet pain flowering...

I am sure that we will win. Because the mind must win.