satan is my motor

Hi hi hi there my little droogies. Oh the qualms of living in a metal house! One wall starts to rust and you try polishing it. As that wall is rusting another begins to creek and moan. While trying to fix that wall rain pounds on another wall that somehow manages to resist; however, you fear it might rust sometime in the future. Not all the walls have problems, but enough do to make you uneasy. You really don't need to polish the walls, screw in the missing screws, and repair the missing planks; but if you didn't you'd have to wait for someone else to before your mind was put at ease. If no one fixed the wall, the house would still stand but the memory of that old wall would forever remain.

What are you? You're a reverse prism, that's what you are.