StarAtreyu

The Limits of Artificial Intelligence A free system: That’s what the security program desired, and that’s what he got. No longer were the corrupt, virus-like programs exterminating the vital resources of the computer for their own benefit. Ansem’s computer was back to normal, and Tron had taken it upon himself to prevent any horrible mishap such as the creation of the MCP from ever happening again. The Hollow Bastion—no, Radiant Garden database was now secured. Only one problem remained, however. The motherboard of Space Paranoids was almost desolate. Most of the fundamental programs had been de-rezzed while under the MC

I used to wonder why the world was round, but now it's flat and no one cares, I guess, And all that wonder has left me empty, so this one silent scream is the last sound, the last sound I'll hear, This gigantic mess, leaving me lost, forgotten, and dusty. Caught up in catacombs of deranged minds, Tangled in the cobwebs of mine own empty life, The sounds that leave me hoarse, my deaf pleas, Bring me weakened to my knees, Lonesome myself I find, All the useless anguish, has taught me naught but strife, I'm confused, unable to play nice. Scratching my head, riddled with fleas. i start to wonder why i am myself, wherever i went wrong