I stood in line. Mindless, unable to move. Yet I could think, I always thought. I couldn't stop thinking. It was all I had left to remind me that I was apart of this world. That I was something more than metal and flesh. I couldn't peer around at the others. I didn't need to. We were all programmed to do the same things and yet I felt different. Not like all those sappy I-cannot-love-like-humans junk. No, I just was able to keep the ability to think, to look around my surroundings and contemplate on this life. If I even still alive. I feel like I am, what does it mean to be alive? Besides having blood, a heart, and a brain?