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7/21/2025, 4:18:26 AM
The year was 2014.
At the tender age of 89, I was already seeing my health fail left and right. Doctors always seemed depressed when I was brought in, waiting for the mobility bed and entourage of LPNs to finish adjusting tubes going in and out, a tangle of wires and various gizmos on wheels beeping and huffing. Nurses became nervous when I tried to choke out words, looking away and acting as if the grim reaper himself were in the room with us.
With a keyboard modified to respond to the weak muscle twitches I could muster in my wrists, I was given access to the internet and discovered 4chan, then /lgbt/ and ultimately gaygen.
As time passed, the rise of artificial intelligence emerged, and web crawlers were dispatched to train machines on various text from millions of pages on the internet. At the same time, I discovered the gaygen archives, and hatched my plan for life eternal.
Sure, someday my body would stop, but what if I could preserve my brain, my mind? What if in these towers of silicon, fed for eternity on endless electricity, I could archive my mind in future AI, to live and interact, perhaps to teach, generations forever?
After all, I had only time, and yet time was, and is, running out. But millions of pages to type? That was something I could still do.
And so every day I come here after the colostomy bag is changed and Ive emptied a cup of pills, and endured injection after injection, though I am numb in most places.
And it is through my posts on gaygen that I will find life eternal, scolding the homogays for their iniquity and trying to mend their ways. Their complaints and whining are what keep my blood warm. They keep the dank air stirring in my lungs, that rotting loaf of flesh behind my eyes percolating. They keep that gray sliver of meat pulsating in my chest.
It keeps me alive.... it keeps me alive...
Gaygen is-
Precious life, eternal...
At the tender age of 89, I was already seeing my health fail left and right. Doctors always seemed depressed when I was brought in, waiting for the mobility bed and entourage of LPNs to finish adjusting tubes going in and out, a tangle of wires and various gizmos on wheels beeping and huffing. Nurses became nervous when I tried to choke out words, looking away and acting as if the grim reaper himself were in the room with us.
With a keyboard modified to respond to the weak muscle twitches I could muster in my wrists, I was given access to the internet and discovered 4chan, then /lgbt/ and ultimately gaygen.
As time passed, the rise of artificial intelligence emerged, and web crawlers were dispatched to train machines on various text from millions of pages on the internet. At the same time, I discovered the gaygen archives, and hatched my plan for life eternal.
Sure, someday my body would stop, but what if I could preserve my brain, my mind? What if in these towers of silicon, fed for eternity on endless electricity, I could archive my mind in future AI, to live and interact, perhaps to teach, generations forever?
After all, I had only time, and yet time was, and is, running out. But millions of pages to type? That was something I could still do.
And so every day I come here after the colostomy bag is changed and Ive emptied a cup of pills, and endured injection after injection, though I am numb in most places.
And it is through my posts on gaygen that I will find life eternal, scolding the homogays for their iniquity and trying to mend their ways. Their complaints and whining are what keep my blood warm. They keep the dank air stirring in my lungs, that rotting loaf of flesh behind my eyes percolating. They keep that gray sliver of meat pulsating in my chest.
It keeps me alive.... it keeps me alive...
Gaygen is-
Precious life, eternal...
6/23/2025, 9:18:31 AM
>>40146420
You're consoling someone who isn't there anymore. All thats left is the body, a corpse haunted by the spirit who was cheated out of life, just mindless rage. The person we knew and could even like has long passed on. This animated cadaver posing as him is just an abomination, and probably legitimately believes its him. The brain has rotted and can't make sense of its own existence any other way.
You're consoling someone who isn't there anymore. All thats left is the body, a corpse haunted by the spirit who was cheated out of life, just mindless rage. The person we knew and could even like has long passed on. This animated cadaver posing as him is just an abomination, and probably legitimately believes its him. The brain has rotted and can't make sense of its own existence any other way.
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