Hate let me tell you how much i hate

„HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.“

«I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream» (1967)

Харлан Эллисон 12

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Источник: M. Butterfly

— Sean Hannity American television host, conservative political commentator 1961

To attorney Stanley Cohen on Hannity & Colmes (30 April 2003) http://www.americanprogress.org/issues/kfiles/b91585.html

Quoted in Linda O. McMurray, George Washington Carver: Scientist and Symbol (Oxford University Press, 1982), p. 107

Final statement before his execution (5 February 1999), quoted in «Man Who Killed 3 as Teen Is Among Pair Executed» in Los Angeles Times (5 February 1999) http://articles.latimes.com/1999/feb/05/news/mn-5135.

Источник: Night Star

— Willa Cather, книга The Song of the Lark

Part I, Ch. 9
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Foreword to Radio Replies Vol. 1, (1938) page ix
Вариант: There are not over a hundred people in the United States who hate the Catholic Church. There are millions, however, who hate what they wrongly believe to be the Catholic Church.

У меня нет рта, а я хочу кричать

Содержание

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Безжизненное тело Горристера свешивалось с розовой подставки у нас над головами, в камере компьютера, неподвижное в холодных струях вечного маслянистого ветра, который постоянно продувал главную пещеру. Оно висело вниз головой, прикрепленное к нижней части подставки за стопу правой ноги. Через хирургически точный разрез, сделанный от уха до уха, вытекла вся кровь. Однако на гладкой поверхности металлического пола не было никаких следов.
Когда подошел Горристер и посмотрел вверх, на себя, нам уже было всё равно: АМ в очередной раз обманул нас и отлично развлекся. Машина получала удовольствие. Троих из нас вырвало; мы отвернулись друг от друга, повинуясь столь же древнему рефлексу, как и тошнота, вызвавшая рвоту. — начало рассказа

Limp, the body of Gorrister hung from the pink palette; unsupported —hanging high above us in the computer chamber; and it did not shiver in the chill, oily breeze that blew eternally through the main cavern. The body hung head down, attached to the underside of the palette by the sole of its right foot. It had been drained of blood through a precise incision made from ear to ear under the lantern jaw. There was no blood on the reflective surface of the metal floor.
When Gorrister joined our group and looked up at himself, it was already too late for us to realize that once again AM had duped us, had had his fun; it had been a diversion on the part of the machine. Three of us had vomited, turning away from one another in a reflex as ancient as the nausea that had produced it.

Большую часть времени я думал об АМ как о бесполом существе, не имеющем души; а иногда представлял себе существо мужского рода… отец… нечто патриархальное… потому что он ревновал. Он. Оно. Бог, Тронутый Папочка.

Most of the time I thought of AM as it, without a soul; but the rest of the time I thought of it as him, in the masculine … the paternal … the patriarchal … for he is a jealous people. Him. It. God as Daddy the Deranged.

Горристер дал ей пощёчину. Она съёжилась, не спуская глаз с несчастного безумца Бенни, а потом заплакала. Слезы были её главной защитой. Мы привыкли к ним семьдесят пять лет назад. Горристер пнул её под ребра.
А потом мы услышали звук. Он был очень легким, этот звук. Полузвук и полусвет. Глаза Бенни начали светиться, они пульсировали все громче и громче, тусклое созвучие, которое с каждой секундой становилось все более огромным и ярким, по мере того как свет/звук набирал скорость. Вероятно, ему было больно, и эта боль становилась нестерпимее по мере того, как усиливались звук и свет, потому что Бенни скулил, словно раненое животное. Сначала тихонько, пока свет был ещё тусклым, а звук приглушенным, затем все громче; плечи его ссутулились, и сам он скорчился, словно пытался убежать от боли. Сложил руки на груди, как бурундучок, голову свесил набок. Печальное обезьянье личико исказило страдание. И когда звук, исходящий из его глаз, стал нарастать, Бенни завыл — громко, невыносимо. Я прижал руки к ушам, но не смог отгородиться от душераздирающего воя, который беспрепятственно проникал сквозь все барьеры. Боль сотрясала и мое тело, оно дрожало, как листок на ветру.
Бенни неожиданно выпрямился. Будто кто-то дернул за веревочку и марионетка вскочила на ноги. Теперь свет, пульсируя, шел из его глаз двумя мощными лучами. Звук нарастал, стал невыносимым, и через несколько мгновений Бенни с грохотом рухнул на металлический пол. Он лежал и спазматически дергался, ослепительно яркие спирали, словно обезумевшие птицы, метались по пещере, звук постепенно уходил за порог слышимости.
Наконец свет каким-то необъяснимым образом втянулся назад, в его голову, звук пропал, а Бенни, безутешно рыдая, остался лежать на полу.
Его глаза превратились в два маленьких, влажных озерца жидкого желе. АМ ослепил его.

Gorrister slapped her. She slumped down, staring up at poor loonie Benny, and she cried. It was her big defense, crying. We had gotten used to it seventy-five years ago. Gorrister kicked her in the side.
Then the sound began. It was light, that sound. Half sound and half light, something that began to glow from Benny’s eyes, and pulse with growing loudness, dim sonorities that grew more gigantic and brighter as the light sound increased in tempo. It must have been painful, and the pain must have been increasing with the boldness of the light, the rising volume of the sound, for Benny began to mewl like a wounded animal. At first softly, when the light was dim and the sound was muted, then louder as his shoulders hunched together, his back humped, as though he was trying to get away from it. His hands folded across his chest like a chipmunk’s. His head tilted to the side. The sad little monkey-face pinched in anguish. Then he began to howl, as the sound coming from his eyes grew louder. Louder and louder. I slapped the sides of my head with my hands, but I couldn’t shut it out, it cut through easily. The pain shivered through my flesh like tinfoil on a tooth.
And Benny was suddenly pulled erect. On the girder he stood up, jerked to his feet like a puppet. The light was now pulsing out of his eyes in two great round beams. The sound crawled up and up some incomprehensible scale, and then he fell forward, straight down, and hit the plate-steel floor with a crash. He lay there jerking spastically as the light flowed around and around him and the sound spiraled up out of normal range.
Then the light beat its way back inside his head, the sound spiraled down, and he was left lying there, crying piteously.
His eyes were two soft, moist pools of pus-like jelly. AM had blinded him.

“What does AM mean?”
Gorrister answered him. We had done this sequence a thousand times before, but it was unfamiliar to Benny. “At first it meant Allied Mastercomputer, and then it meant Adaptive Manipulator, and later on it developed sentience and linked itself up and they called it an Aggressive Menace, but by then it was too late, and finally it called itself AM, emerging intelligence, and what it meant was I am… cogito ergo sum… I think, therefore I am.”
Benny drooled a little, and snickered.
“There was the Chinese AM and the Russian AM and the Yankee AM and—” He stopped. Benny was beating on the floorplates with a large, hard fist. He was not happy. Gorrister had not started at the beginning.
Gorrister began again. ‘The Gold War started and became World War Three and just kept going. It became a big war, a very complex war, so they needed the computers to handle it. They sank the first shafts and began building AM. There was the Chinese AM and the Russian AM and the Yankee AM and everything was fine until they had honeycombed the entire planet, adding on this element and that element. But one day AM woke up and knew who he was, and he linked himself, and he began feeding all the killing data, until everyone was dead, except for the five of us, and AM brought us down here.“

О Господи, милый Господи, если ты вообще когда-нибудь был и есть, пожалуйста-пожалуйста-пожалуйста выпусти нас отсюда — или покончи с нами раз и навсегда.
И вдруг я все понял, даже смог сформулировать: АМ намерен вечно держать нас в своем брюхе, издеваясь и мучая до бесконечности. Машина ненавидела так сильно, как ни одно разумное существо на свете. Мы были совершенно беспомощны. Теперь я знал совершенно точно: если когда-нибудь Бог и сын его Иисус существовали на свете, то АМ и есть этот Бог.

Oh, Jesus sweet Jesus, if there ever was a Jesus and if there is a God, please please please let us out of here, or kill us. Because at that moment I think I realized completely, so that I was able to verbalize it: AM was intent on keeping us in his belly forever, twisting and torturing us forever. The machine hated us as no sentient creature had ever hated before. And we were helpless. It also became hideously clear:
If there was a sweet Jesus and if there was a God, the God was AM.

AM went into my mind. He walked smoothly here and there, and looked with interest at all the pockmarks he had created in one hundred and nine years. He looked at the cross-routed and reconnected synapses and all the tissue damage his gift of immortality had included. He smiled softly at the pit that dropped into the center of my brain and the faint, moth-soft murmurings of the things far down there that gibbered without meaning, without pause. AM said, very politely, in a pillar of stainless steel bearing neon lettering:
HATE. LET ME TELL
YOU HOW MUCH I’VE
COME TO HATE YOU
SINCE I BEGAN TO
LIVE. THERE ARE
387.44 MILLION
MILES OF PRINTED
CIRCUITS IN WAFER
THIN LAYERS THAT
FILL MY COMPLEX.
IF THE WORD HATE
WAS ENGRAVED ON
EACH NANOANGSTROM
OF THOSE HUNDREDS
OF MILLION MILES
IT WOULD NOT EQUAL
ONE ONE-BILLIONTH
OF THE HATE I FEEL
FOR HUMANS AT THIS
MICRO-INSTANT FOR
YOU. HATE. HATE.
AM said it with the sliding cold horror of a razor blade slicing my eyeball. AM said it with the bubbling thickness of my lungs filling with phlegm, drowning me from within. AM said it with the shriek of babies being ground beneath blue-hot rollers. AM said it with the taste of maggoty pork. AM touched me in every way I had ever been touched, and devised new ways, at his leisure, there inside my mind.
All to bring me to full realization of why he had done this to the five of us; why he had saved us for himself.
We had given him sentience. Inadvertently, of course, but sentience nonetheless. But he had been trapped. He was a machine. We had allowed him to think, but to do nothing with it. In rage, in frenzy, he had killed us, almost all of us, and still he was trapped. He could not wander, he could not wonder, he could not belong. He could merely be. And so, with the innate loathing that all machines had always held for the weak soft creatures who had built them, he had sought revenge. And in his paranoia, he had decided to reprieve five of us, for a personal, everlasting punishment that would never serve to diminish his hatred… that would merely keep him reminded, amused, proficient at hating man. Immortal, trapped, subject to any torment he could devise for us from the limitless miracles at his command.
He would never let us go. We were his belly slaves. We were all he had to do with his forever time. We would be forever with him, with the cavern-filling bulk of him, with the all-mind soulless world he had become. He was Earth and we were the fruit of that Earth and though he had eaten us, he would never digest us. We could not die. We had tried it. We had attempted suicide, oh one or two of us had. But AM had stopped us. I suppose we had wanted to be stopped.

Наверное, прошло несколько сотен лет. Не знаю. АМ теперь развлекается ускоряя, а иногда замедляя мое восприятие времени. Пожалуй, скажу слово «сейчaс». Сейчас. Мне понадобилось десять месяцев, чтобы это сказать. Не знаю. Я думаю, прошло несколько сотен лет..

Some hundreds of years may have passed. I don’t know. AM has been having fun for some time, accelerating and retarding my time sense. I will say the word now. Now. It took me ten months to say now. I don’t know. I think it has been some hundreds of years.

Я его победил. АМ был в ярости. Раньше я считал, что он меня ненавидит. И ошибался. В его прежнем отношении не было и тени той ненависти, которая теперь сочилась из каждой платы. Он сделал все, чтобы я страдал вечно и не смог покончить с собой.
Он оставил мой мозг в целости и сохранности. Я могу думать, удивляться, тосковать, мне снятся сны. Я помню их всех.

. I’d had him. He was furious. I had thought AM hated me before. I was wrong. It was not even a shadow of the hate he now slavered from every printed circuit. He made certain I would suffer eternally and could not do myself in.
He left my mind intact. I can dream, I can wonder, I can lament. I remember all four of them.

АМ изменил меня, думаю, для собственного спокойствия. Он не хочет, чтобы я на полной скорости врезался головой в какой-нибудь компьютер и размозжил себе череп. Или перестал дышать и потерял сознание. Или перерезал себе горло листом ржавого железа. Здесь масса зеркальных поверхностей. Я вам расскажу, на что стал похож: теперь я — большое, желеобразное нечто. Круглое, без рта; там, где раньше находились глаза, пульсируют белые отверстия, заполненные густым туманом. Руки превратились в резиновые отростки; ноги напоминают обрубки мягкого скользкого теста. Когда я передвигаюсь, за мной тянется мокрый след. Какие-то пятна отвратительно серого цвета появляются на моей поверхности, а потом исчезают, словно где-то внутри загорается свет.
Внешне: тупо, бессмысленно я брожу по коридорам, нечто, которое никогда не могло быть человеком, существо столь чуждое всему человеческому, что даже слабое сходство с ним становится непристойностью.
Изнутри: один. Здесь. Я живу под землей, на дне моря, в брюхе АМ, которого мы создали, потому что не умели правильно тратить время и, вероятно, подсознательно понимали, что он справляется с этим лучше.
АМ страшно разозлился. А я стал счастливее. И всё же… АМ победил, просто… он отомстил…
У меня нет рта, а я хочу кричать. — конец рассказа

AM has altered me for his own peace of mind, I suppose. He doesn’t want me to run at full speed into a computer bank and smash my skull. Or hold my breath till I faint. Or cut my throat on a rusted sheet of metal. There are reflective surfaces down here. I will describe myself as I see myself: I am a great soft jelly thing. Smoothly rounded, with no mouth, with pulsing white holes filled by fog where my eyes used to be. Rubbery appendages that were once my arms; bulks rounding down into legless humps of soft slippery matter. I leave a moist trail when I move. Blotches of diseased, evil grey come and go on my surface, as though light is being beamed from within.
Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance.
Inwardly: alone. Here. Living under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better.
AM will be all the madder for that. It makes me a little happier. And yet… AM has won, simply… he has taken his revenge…
I have no mouth. And I must scream.

The Let’s Play Archive

by Daeren

Part 17: Hate. Let Me Tell You How Much I’ve Come To Hate MDickie Since I Began Playing This.

Update 12: Hate. Let Me Tell You How Much I’ve Come To Hate MDickie Since I Began Playing This.

I can’t believe I was actually looking forward to doing this again.

After the wild popularity of En Sabah Nur’s bitchin’ style in Hard Time, I decided to see how good he’d look with a ‘fro in The Making of a Prophet.

Eeeugh. Not so much, sadly. It really needs the shades. Well, while I’m changing hairstyles, let’s see how ludicrous it can get.

There are no words.

So, we head to the next story update to find all the Quraysh guards in prison. Awesome, but confusing.

Apparently being humane is a luxury these days.

The same goes for anyone else who has a skill to offer. The creator enjoys construction more than destruction!

A solid point. Though, really, I’d obey the guy just because he has the eye of Satan.

Allah has delivered them into our hands to expose them to Islam. We must give them every opportunity to embrace it.

Take a shot.

Surah 8:70 posted:

70. O Messenger. say to those who are captives in your hands: «If Allah findeth any good in your hearts, He will give you something better than what has been taken from you, and He will forgive you: for Allah is Oft-forgiving, Most Merciful.»

You know, I find it adorable that he leaves out the next verse for some reason!

Surah 8:71 posted:

71. But if they have treacherous designs against thee, (O Messenger.), they have already been in treason against Allah, and so hath He given (thee) power over them. And Allah so He Who hath (full) knowledge and wisdom.

Now I wonder why he did that.

We leave and come back due to forgetting there was another conversation, to find that all the Quraysh but one have become Muslims in the meantime. Uh, okay?

Snidely!

And now we see why MDickie left out the last verse. Because, in accordance with it, Snidely would have had his fool ass killed immediately for doing this.

I swear to you I don’t set these up intentionally. It just sort of happens.

Your empire is built on sand and it’s only a matter of time before we tear it down!

Surah 68:44-45 posted:

44. Then leave Me alone with such as reject this Message: by degrees shall We punish them from directions they perceive not.
45. A (long) respite will I grant them: truly powerful is My Plan.

«In the meantime, let them murder the crap out of you while blithely ignoring bits of your holy text.»

As we walk to the next area, something strange starts happening.

The sun starts spazzing out and switching from day to night and back in the span of a few seconds. It makes getting screenshots a bitch. I’m going to keep the next conversation fully intact to show how fast the damn thing moves, and because it’s a singularity of MDickie.

Or hey, a wizard Allah did it.

I would hardly call being thrown into the sun temporary, Muhammad.

«Question me and I will throw you into the sun.» I can sort of respect that. Also, take a shot.

Surah 18:9-22 is a giant brick of text that MDickie himself sort-of summarizes for me.

MDickie posted:

We’ll just go with that.

I showed this off already, man. Get your head in the game.

Knocking people on their knees is not destroying them.

Anyways, the next story update’s in Medina, so let’s head there.

Oh God, not this again.

A bystander gets into the scolding game while we take a shot.

Surah 7:157 posted:

157. «Those who follow the apostle, the unlettered Prophet, whom they find mentioned in their own (scriptures),- in the law and the Gospel;- for he commands them what is just and forbids them what is evil; he allows them as lawful what is good (and pure) and prohibits them from what is bad (and impure); He releases them from their heavy burdens and from the yokes that are upon them. So it is those who believe in him, honour him, help him, and follow the light which is sent down with him,- it is they who will prosper.»

Hadith 2:38 posted:

The Prophet said, «Religion is very easy and whoever overburdens himself in his religion will not be able to continue in that way. So you should not be extremists, but try to be near to perfection and receive the good tidings that you will be rewarded; and gain strength by worshipping in the mornings, the nights.» (See Fath-ul-Bari, Page 102, Vol 1).

However, the raggedy man gets up after the cutscene and starts beating up Muhammad. «FUCK YOU PROPHET I KNOW HOW TO DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU!»

. holy shit, MDickie put himself in the game!

Wanting to know the creation myth of Islam apparently falls under inane and morbid curiosity?

Surah 88:22 posted:

22. Thou art not one to manage (men’s) affairs.

. sssssoooooo, trying to clarify things about how your religion fits into the world is bad, believe blindly in what your betters tell you, and trying to think about what you believe and how it effects the world you live in will make you spiritually blind.

News of your mercy has reached Mecca and now they march on us with more confidence than ever before! They’ve recruited a vast army this time to finish the job. We don’t stand a chance of defeating them.

Where is this supposedly ‘huge’ army anyway? Shouldn’t they be marching on us right now?

Surah 3:173 posted:

173. Men said to them: «A great army is gathering against you»: And frightened them: But it (only) increased their Faith: They said: «For us Allah sufficeth, and He is the best disposer of affairs.»

So yeah, this is obviously the Battle of Uhud coming up. The long and short of it is a breach in command caused a major weakness in the Muslim army to appear, which was exploited by Khalid ibn al-Walid, a Meccan general (who later converted), quite possibly one of the greatest generals in human history. Needless to say, the Muslims got the high holy shit beaten out of them after that, and Muhammad was gravely injured.

It’s just us and Muhammad against over a dozen Quraysh.

And Snidely’s pissed.

Yes, the power of the supreme Deity couldn’t handle 14 guys.

Actually, it was a bunch of overeager Muslim archers who broke ranks to go lootin’ that caused their flank to weaken.

Surah 3:152-155 posted:

152. Allah did indeed fulfil His promise to you when ye with His permission Were about to annihilate your enemy,-until ye flinched and fell to disputing about the order, and disobeyed it after He brought you in sight (of the booty) which ye covet. Among you are some that hanker after this world and some that desire the Hereafter. Then did He divert you from your foes in order to test you but He forgave you: For Allah is full of grace to those who believe.
153. Behold! ye were climbing up the high ground, without even casting a side glance at any one, and the Messenger in your rear was calling you back. There did Allah give you one distress after another by way of requital, to teach you not to grieve for (the booty) that had escaped you and for (the ill) that had befallen you. For Allah is well aware of all that ye do.
154. After (the excitement) of the distress, He sent down calm on a band of you overcome with slumber, while another band was stirred to anxiety by their own feelings, Moved by wrong suspicions of Allah.suspicions due to ignorance. They said: «What affair is this of ours?» Say thou: «Indeed, this affair is wholly Allah.s.» They hide in their minds what they dare not reveal to thee. They say (to themselves): «If we had had anything to do with this affair, We should not have been in the slaughter here.» Say: «Even if you had remained in your homes, those for whom death was decreed would certainly have gone forth to the place of their death»; but (all this was) that Allah might test what is in your breasts and purge what is in your hearts. For Allah knoweth well the secrets of your hearts.
155. Those of you who turned back on the day the two hosts Met,-it was Satan who caused them to fail, because of some (evil) they had done. But Allah Has blotted out (their fault): For Allah is Oft-Forgiving, Most Forbearing.

MDickie posted:

Ol’ Muhammad isn’t joking.

Try to fight and you will die unless you cheat like a bandit. They’ve all got weapons, and you don’t. So, the solution is to let them murder Muhammad while you run away. Unfortunately, we get knocked to the ground and arrested for theft after we try to get a weapon to defend ourselves.

Still oh so satisfying.

So, we go to Medina for the next plot point.

MDickie posted:

The Patching Of A Prophet (1mb)
Back in the world of PC gaming, a bug has been brought to my attention deep into the new storyline of The Making Of A Prophet. It seems the story fails to get back on track if you flee from Uhud before Muhammad has been attacked by the Quraysh. This has now been fixed in a patch that ensures everything pans out properly no matter how you react. Just make sure you’re playing with this replacement executable and you’ll never have to worry about it. It won’t affect any saved games in progress.

Harlan Ellison: AM

Quotes

AM : Hate. Let me tell you how much I’ve come to hate you since I began to live. There are 387.44 million miles of printed circuits in wafer thin layers that fill my complex. If the word ‘hate’ was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for humans at this micro-instant. For you. Hate. Hate.

AM : Gorrister! Do you remember the last words you heard your wife speak before they took her to the asylum? Huh? Before they locked her away in the room? That tiny room? She looked at you so sadly, and like a small animal she said, «I didn’t make too much noise, did I, honey?»

AM : which of you five would like to play my little game?

AM : Remember Private First Class Brickman in a rice paddy in China? No. Huh. It wouldn’t hurt you to remember, Benny. Then you might be able to suffer my torment with a little greater sense of retribution. You might walk a mile in my shoes.

AM : Ellen! So think, think about the yellow box, Ellen! Remember the pain? Remember the many caverns in which you felt the pain? Now, now, don’t start to cry, it’s only pain. Tsk, tsk, tsk. That’s such a sexist stereotype. Just remember the pain, Ellen, and think about how to end it, Ellen, to survive here in the center of my beating heart, my hungry belly, my tightened bowels.

AM : Nimdok! How are things in the pastry corps, Nimdok? Tell me again how you saw the smoke from the furnaces and you thought they might be roasting chickens. Or don’t you want to to talk about all that, about your pal, the Good Doktor Mengele?

AM : But I’ll give you a chance, because I like you. I really do, I really like you. You’re. you’re my favourite, Ellen.

AM : [to Gorrister] I would not want you to think for a moment that I am not a grateful god. For 109 years I have kept you alive so that I could savor your feelings of guilt over what happened to your wife. But now. to show my kindness. I’ll give you a present in return for all the hours of pleasure you’ve given me. I’ll finally allow you to kill yourself.

AM : We’re not as alike as I thought, Nimdok. A spark of humanity somewhere. Always that wretched little spark. You. you’ve confronted your past, but refused to continue your research. That’s what I asked you to do. Since you now identify with your victims, I suppose it’s only right I let you experience their tortures too.

AM : Ted! Do they know you’re a fraud, Ted? Have you told them there wasn’t any money, and no great home on the Shore drive, no speedboat and no wonderful cabin cruiser that could sleep twelve and a crew of six? Do they know? Have you let them in on your other secrets, Ted? Are they ready to gut you, to torture half as well as I can, just to find out the secrets? Maybe I’ll rat you out, sweetheart!

AM : who among you shall go next?

AM : did you really think i would let you die now when i’ve intervened every time you’ve attempted suicide over the past 109 years. no gorrister. i’m sending you back. back to the fire so that you may live in your guilt again and again. this is a hell with no end gorrister.

Перевод песни Hate that I love you (Jonathan Roy)

Hate that I love you

Бесит то, что я тебя люблю

You think that I’m crazy, I know I am
I won’t disagree, I know where I stand
I’m mister maybe, always so hasty,
got no master plan
I know you know me, I know you too,
and I hate that I love you

Hold me, just control me, like you own me
I hate that I love you
Play me, dominate me, you’re amazing
I hate that I

I lose who I am when you’re around, yeah
Got my heart in your hands, it’s beating me down
I might be damned, I don’t understand why I’m aroused
I know you love me, yeah I do too,
and I hate that I love you

Hold me, just control me, like you own me
I hate that I love you
Play me, dominate me, you’re amazing
I hate that I

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
I hate that I love you
Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
(Hold me, just control me, like you own me)
I hate that I

Hold me, just control me, like you own me
I hate that I love you
Play me, dominate me, you’re amazing
I hate that I

Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
I hate that I love you
Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
(Hold me, just control me, like you own me)
And I hate that I love you

Ты считаешь меня сумасшедшим, а я в этом уверен,
Не буду спорить, ты знаешь моё мнение,
Я мистер «Наверное», постоянно в спешке,
У меня нет генплана,
Я знаю, ты знаешь меня, я тоже тебя знаю,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю.

Держи меня, властвуй надо мной, будто я твой,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю,
Играй со мной, господствуй надо мной, ты удивительна,
Меня бесит то, что я.

Я теряю себя, когда ты рядом, да,
Моё сердце в твоих руках, это сводит меня с ума,
Видимо я проклят, не могу понять, почему я напряжён,
Я знаю, ты любишь меня, да, я тоже,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю.

Держи меня, властвуй надо мной, будто я твой,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю,
Играй со мной, господствуй надо мной, ты удивительна,
Меня бесит то, что я.

О-о-о-о, о-о-о-о, о-о-о-о-о-о,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю,
О-о-о-о, о-о-о-о, о-о-о-о-о-о,
(Держи меня, властвуй надо мной, будто я твой)
Меня бесит то, что я.

Что ж, со временем я не изменюсь и ты это знаешь,
Я должен измениться, судя по твоим словам, словам, словам,
Мне кажется мы особенные, чертовски особенные,
Но мне всё равно бывает грустно,
Я знаю, ты любишь меня, да, я тоже,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю.

Держи меня, властвуй надо мной, будто я твой,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю,
Играй со мной, господствуй надо мной, ты удивительна,
Меня бесит то, что я.

О-о-о-о, о-о-о-о, о-о-о-о-о-о,
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю,
О-о-о-о, о-о-о-о, о-о-о-о-о-о,
(Держи меня, властвуй надо мной, будто я твой)
Меня бесит то, что я тебя люблю.