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Summary
More often than sometimes, Lando wishes that he was a piece of machinery himself. Something someone could fiddle with to make sure that he ran right. There must be a flaw in his coding, at the very least. He was not designed right. A prototype of a human. A puppet with arms that do not move in the ways they’re supposed to. The more he designs for his degree, the more nights he spends over code, staring at numbers flashing in front of his eyes, the more he understands the slow blinking during a panic attack.
The human desire to set oneself back to factory settings. The uncontrollable urge to begin again.