Personal Archaeology: Infinizine, part 1
“What's past is prologue.” ― William Shakespeare, The Tempest
There are no voiceovers for Personal Archaeology exhibits. I don’t think it’s correct to impose my current voice on my past words, or vice versa—I’m a different person now, even if I am also the same.
This artifact was created c. 2007.
Read my introduction to the Personal Archaeology series for paid subscribers here:
Personal Archaeology: Infinizine, part 1
This is the first part of a multi-part series showcasing a ‘zine I made c. 2007, when I was 17 years old. I called it Infinizine. It had only one issue and was never distributed—I never even took it to Kinko’s. But, as you will see, I’ve been running on the same hamster wheel for a long time.
In many ways, Juxtaposition is, now, what I couldn’t make Infinizine be, then.
Editorial note: Infinizine was my own personal creative endeavor but I solicited art-work and a couple poems from friends with whom I no longer have any contact. I don’t feel right posting those sections without permission or credit, so I will black out any content that was not created by me, except for the cover photo, which I found on the 2007 internet.
Transcript: Philosophical Diarrhea
I feel clingy and desperate, but not in a bad way. Clingy to life. Desperate for time. Not desperate in an “oh shit” kind of way. Desperate in a glad “need more of a good thing” kind of way. I made three lists today. Things Worth Dying For,
Things Worth Living For,
and Things That Make Me Happy to be Alive.
They’re small lists, but I know there are
things I just haven’t thought of yet. Because if I didn’t have anything to live for, I wouldn’t be living anymore. Then again maybe I haven’t died yet because I don’t have anything worth dying for. But in any case,
I’m glad to be breathing.
There are a lot of abstract ideas that make me glad to be alive. And a lot of things that I can’t accomplish but that I’m glad I can ATTEMPT to accomplish. Such as, the fact that there will always be things I haven’t done yet because I can’t possibly try everything. The fact that I am able to take things for granted makes me glad to be alive…not the actual taking things for granted. But the fact that I CAN.
And apparently I’ve made it a life goal to understand
infinity,
because I can’t seem to stop thinking about it and the fact that I can TRY to understand it makes me glad to be breathing. Philosophy also makes me glad to be alive. I love being able to think about things and come to conclusions. And even while it frustrates the CRAP out of me, I LOVE that moment where you get SO FUCKING CLOSE to ultimate truth that the universe forces you to forget what you were thinking about and lose your train of though entirely. I love being so close to something perfect. And I love that I can never actually GET there. Because perfection is overrated. It’s not the destination that matters anyway. It’s how you get there and whether or not it was worth it to you and whether or not you had a good time. But then of course, there are also tangible things that make me squeal with delight. Things like rain. And being able to feel the rain. And kissing. God, I love kissing. And delicious food. And being able to digest meat. And stupid jokes and KNOWING that they’re stupid and laughing anyway. And walking. And perfect days. And laughter. Sensation. Being able to affect things directly and indirectly, with or without me knowing that I’m affecting anything at all. Making connections. All kinds of connection. Music, even bad music. Water. The relativity of life, the universe and everything.
Which, yes I know, is intangible but I don’t care. So fuck it. Seriously. Fuck it! Nothing matters! Except it does! Organization matters, but only if chaos exists too. Fuck, dude. Life is SO worth is. It’s worth everything.
Life is art.
All art is useless.
Therefore life is useless.
It has no
purpose but instead, infinite value.
Why is the instinct for survival so great? Why are we ready to chew off an arm if only for one more day? And what makes people lose that instinct? Because in the big picture, it doesn’t matter whether we live or die. The moment anything happens, it couldn’t have happened any other way.
We have free will only until we put it to use.
Because as soon as we make a choice, it was always going to be that choice.
Schrödinger’s fucking cat! Before we decide, all choices exist and are real and possible. But as soon as you open the box (make the choice) the outcome is and always was inevitable.
So why do we humans feel so strongly about our right (or lack thereof) to live? Our right as individuals, not as a race. Why do I PERSONALLY feel so glad to be alive and yet some other kid…hell, it could be the kid sitting across the room from me…why does HE feel like he doesn’t deserve to be here? Why does it matter? What’s the difference? Is it because I know that nothing matters and therefore I am allowed to continue to exist despite my absurd lack of respect for…for…I don’t even know. For everything. I have no respect. And this other kid thinks that things DO matter and therefore he thinks that his lack of respect for everything is BAD, where as I feel that mine is irrelevant? And therefore I’m glad to live and to feel and to breathe and exist because the fact that I DO live and breathe and feel and exist is completely frivolous and excessive and HE hates being alive because he thinks it’s a waste? It’s like the difference between childlike and childish. It’s the SAME THING. Only the connotation changes. It’s just that I see life as glass half full and he sees it as half empty.
But it’s ironic.
Because the glass
half empty person is the
one who has purpose. The guy
with a purpose is the guy who
hates being alive.
And then there’s me:
the ridiculous, happy girl who thinks that life is
meaningless and THAT’S the beauty of it. Because life ENDS.
And when it ends it’s DONE.
How can it mean anything after that? But it’s OKAY!
IT’S FUCKING OKAY!!! Because it’s fun while it lasts!
Thank You for Being. Here.
I hope you found some resonance with this, the very first Personal Archaeology exhibit. The complete Infinizine series will be freely available to all subscribers—but, as a thank-you to anyone choosing to place an early bet on Juxtaposition’s success, the subscription price will be at its lowest during this time.
Use the button below to upgrade your subscription for just $2.22/month or $22.22/year1 any time before I release Infinizine Part 2 in a couple weeks. That will be your price forever, as long as you don’t cancel.
Each subsequent Infinizine exhibit will see those numerals count upwards2 until reaching $7.77/month or $77.77/year, which will be the final price.
Will You think about it? You have some time to decide.
If You’d rather stay on a free subscription for now, I won’t blame You at all. You’ll still receive all of my best content—but I sure would appreciate it if You’d take a moment to share Juxtaposition with someone in Your life who might appreciate it.
And as always, You can be read by me via email to juxtaposition@substack.com. I may not respond, but take a look at the “Commun(icat)ion” section of the About Page to find out why You should definitely still write to me.
Substack actually won’t let me set a price this low so I had to add a weird percentage discount and it had a lot of decimal places and it’ll probably force it to round. It might end up being $2.25/month or $22.50/year, which is less satisfying but fine.
Or as close as I can get using percentage discounts, ha.