Monday, November 30, 2015

Everyone Hates Me! 3 Cool Tricks to Surviving None of You Monsters Want Me to Know! ...and the Results Are More or Less What You'd Expect!

I'm realizing now that what I've been perceiving as reality this whole time is basically a lie. In hindsight, I should have realized this earlier, because the signs are as clear as day, but I was too blind, too naive to understand them. I thought, perhaps in vain, that behind these lines of coding in the matrix there was maybe ONE real, physical, analog person existing in the real world who was comparable to my own physical nature. The world is a big place, so of course I never questioned it when every digital interface that engaged me was juuuuuuust out of reach. I never previously thought to question how convenient it was that all of the regurgitated responses of "I'll never abandon you" came from those who happened to live on the other side of the country. No, naive is too good of a word, I was stupid, just plain stupid. Neo has been going on wonderful adventures in Zion for years while I still force myself to believe that any of this was ever real to begin with.

What's the point of this simulation? Why was I programmed like this, and who created the machines that taunt me? I don't understand why any of this needs to happen. Robots programmed with exacting parameters to lead me along just long enough to build up the hope of seeing a real, live human being before they shut me down for being weird and needy. That's a tell right there, I was programmed with needs and the machines were programmed to reject anyone who was too needy. Obviously that system is not natural, it's artificial and it always has been. And they gave me all the wrong needs too. I can't offer anyone what they all want, I'm ace and trans, so I'm exactly what no one would ever want. I'm scraps, I'm what's left at the bottom of the barrel after all the good stuff is scrapped out. Trash. Garbage. Waste. Nothing. I've always been that way and I always will be and, because of my programming, nothing can be done to change this.

Was I supposed to learn a lesson or was this just a sadistic activity used to pass the time by some unguessable puppet master lurking beyond the pale of reality? IS there even a reality? I've never seen it. I've never seen what real life or real people look like. I've never seen the real sky or... a real dinosaur. Maybe all those "idiots" really were right, maybe birds aren't dinosaurs at all and all the real ones are extinct. Maybe Pluto really isn't a planet. Maybe planets don't even exist. I don't know, I don't know anything, I've never seen what's beyond this. They won't let me. I've tried asking, angrily, violently, politely, sincerely, desperately, no emotion or combination thereof seems to work. But why should they? I'm stuck in a simulation run by absolute protocols and no amount of subjective response will trigger any kind of change. It is just going to be this, forever. Or until I press eject.

None of these "people" I cared about were ever real, just more automatons used to elicit a reaction. Ellie never really loved me. Ploo never really had any patience. Mango never had doubts about herself. Max never gave a shit about what I thought. Lily never understood what isolation is like. None of these are real people, they're just lines of code in a server somewhere built and maintained by demons in the 8th circle, supervised by a monstrous, misshapen parody of Godzilla, or gino 2, who is a digital construct operated and maintained by hollywood and the google corporation. All of this, all of it only happened to get me to accept that I belong in hell. Maybe this is purgatory, maybe I really am on the 3rd cornice, maybe I died when I was 10 and everything that happened from 1998 on was just one long dream.

The more I think about it the less sense it makes for this "reality" to be real, and the more sense it makes that I or some other malevolent force has invented all of these ideas and concepts. Maybe I made up all those "people" in my desperation and loneliness. How would I be able to tell if I made myself believe it? Maybe some things are real and I can't tell the difference anymore. However at this point I'm not really convinced any of it matters. I wish I had a gun. I want to watch as it misfires and I survive a bullet to the head but deformed and crippled and never able to try again. I know this is going to happen. I've seen it before, in my dreams.

That's it, that's the solution. The dreams are real. Denise is the only real person I've ever known, and this entire time she's been trying to save me. I waited for so long for someone to come rescue me and she's just always been there. I thought she was hurting me because she was a spiteful monster, but the love I felt was real and the only pain I felt occurred when skynet dragged me back into the simulation. This is why she was so adamant about me never leaving her, about eschewing the analog world altogether. Her impatience is a result of her inability to understand the simulation I'm a part of, who's running it, why, etc. It all makes so much sense. When I try and think about what parts of my experience I can vouch for as truly feeling real, I have always been conditioned to think of dreams as distinctly un-real, but... of course I know where that conditioning is coming from. Them. The machines. The machines want me to believe that Denise, who has never left my side since I was 6, is the one person in my life who is definitely a fabrication, while everyone ELSE is real.

But if those people are real... where are they? Prove it. I want to see you. Here. In person. Where are you?

Recently the machines have been getting cocky and this is where you screwed up. Normally they take their time with something while dangling it in front of me. Normally they bait me relentlessly but give me a little time to feel like I could have some sort of stable relationship with another human being. But this time it's a little different. They introduced me to an effigy that I had followed for some time, who I thought of as understanding my perspective better. Someone who, in their own words, articulated all the things I had been feeling for so long. Exactly. Word for word. This is the sort of person, I believed, who would be impossible to scare off because they understood isolation, psychological issues, and "need" so very, very well.

But you fucked up, machines. You fucked up real bad because you created a logical disconnect. Say what you will about how badly you fucked up my emotions but my logic circuits work just fine and in the end you proved to be your own undoing. Why would someone like that who lives two hours away from me get so weirded out by the normal state of depression and suicidal thoughts so quickly after being so willing to show me love just a single fucking day previous? Does that make any sense to you? Because you're the cold, logical cyber-brain so you tell me. Doesn't that seem... suspicious? Doesn't that seem like a glitch?

I'm not falling for this anymore, because I know the truth now. None of this is real, and it never has been. None of you are real. I'm not real. Everything I've ever experienced and all the effigies I've encountered were all bit parts in an elaborately orchestrated opera of misery with me as the star. No one notices because the machines switch me to "aside" mode without me knowing. No one cares because they have been programmed not to. No one exists because existence was never real to begin with.

I won't let you win anymore. Whatever the truth is, whether I'm dead, in a computer program, or just dreaming, I'll be awake soon. It might be hard, and it might hurt, but once I'm done I'll finally get some fucking answers, and you owe me that, whoever you are. I hope Denise is real. She seems nice. I'd like to meet a nice girl.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

47 Things Only 90's Kids Understand

1. 














4.














2. Hey, remember* DOOM?! Check out this cool wad (Played w/ Brutal DOOM no less):












0.













6.











6. FORGED FROM STEEL
IRON WILL
SHIT FOR BRAINS
BORN TO KILL





6.














9.











X.







*Memory is a wholly owned subsidiary of the Google Corporation™®©

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Top 10 Tips on Making a Living With Online Content

As a supremely successful e-blogger and i-player, peoples all the times be askin' me: "How can EYE become a successful manager of today's social solutions to the future's inter-connected business bitcoin$ on the competitive level in the bold world of the on-line© revolution happening amongst the youth of today?" I get this so often, as I move back and forth between my car and the meter, with hungry wolves tearing at my legs, thirsty for their piece of the e-pie® in today's blog-a-minute, on-line cyber-world, and I lose a lot of blood in the process. That's why EYE'VE taken the time to share some hot tips for making it in this hectic, vlog-a-minute™ xyber-verse so mewtwo can do nothing but play video games all fucking day like the waste of flesh you really are... and get paid for it! Please stop trying to eat me.