infinityfye

"Let me guess, you picked out yet another colorful box with a crank that I’m expected to turn and turn until OOP! big shock, a jack pops out and you laugh and the kids laugh and the dog laughs and I die a little inside." - Stewie Griffin


"People. God knows I love them (do not fear the sarcasm). Actually, I can't say I hate very many people specifically; so few seem real enough to deserve that level of attention. Certainly, though, there are some good people out there, somewhere. It is just that, here, in my tiny facet of this spinning pile, it's so rare to really feel anything from anyone. Connections are difficult. There's an irritation in being among people who've already found their connection, and finding that those left who haven't are as undesirable as the void they would be replacing. The numbing mind-dream of knowing you're alone not because people won't accept you, but because you find so little worth accepting. An imposed solitude is better than simply tolerating your company in waiting for something better. So loneliness is not such a terrible thing when you consider that the alternative to thought provoking solace, is to be surrounded only by reminders of why that solitude is preferable. I'd take film and music over the blurry mass of faces I've encountered. People begin to look like mere fleshy reaction machines: passionless and dead. But this is all in my own head; I can't claim to be arrogant enough to be certain of any particular perception. After all, reality is what we make it. It's just unfortunate that the general population has made it so unpleasant. I'm meandering. Perhaps a different topic. I'm pleased to see that you've lived to see a 2nd issue. The 1st sold well enough for me to afford my new prosthetic head (it has an automated smile feature, so I don't have to mean it). So I thank those of you who help support this purely venomous thing." - Johnen Vasquez


"How lovely it would be to KNOW something. Well, perhaps lovely is the wrong word for indisputable knowledge, but the sensation would, surly, be an interesting one to say the least. Human beings are described as "creatures of reason", this in no way, means that the reasoning the mind allows itself to be sustained by, in order to function in the world, in order to keep from slipping off of it, is indisputable. Information seems to function as the ultimate placebo (so long as we feel it is worth something, we allow ourselves to continue living our lives by it.) To say one "knows" something is deceptive, for, what they really seem to be doing is trusting in a concept, an ideal, all the while never truly knowing the object being referred to, but trusting in the explanations being fed to them in association with that object. it's like never, honestly, seeing something, rather only using our eyes to see the coloured light bouncing off of its surfaces. Descartes looked outside of his window and questioned how he could know that the people walking below were not metal machines in human guise, and he, then, proceeded to establish some system for knowing "what is real" to him. Well, hooray for Descartes, but what about someone with absolutely no stable standing point from which to assess the rest of the world? Where is the value in a life in total questioning of ITSELF with NEVER a particular belief with which to keep buoyant. Reality is but a bridge suspended, solely, by the belief of those who must traverse it. Our boy Johnny stopped half way across, and lost sight of the two directions at hand. I do not adore death as if I were some idiot groupie to the lead singer in a band. I approach it with the mixture of fascination / terror / icy speculation of someone who really knows nothing. I trust, only enough, to know that I like myself too much to even consider bringing about my own demise. What a stupid fuck Johnny was... eh.. is. But then again, what do I know?" - Johnen Vasquez