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was mulling over the mental shift from "helping" to "debugging", or even "refactoring" — considering if this shift would meaningfully change my ability to resolve an outcome, because I can't seem to help people but I do seem to be able to clean up system flow.
was mulling over applying lightward ai to those ends, like a cleaning process, applying it like narrative solvent
it was from in those thoughts that I received a dm from someone, an influencer ad for an ai therapy tool
shortly thereafter, someone else remarked with surprise that
my first password (and I remember that moment of intuitively choosing it) was "arbiter:4". there's something in here.
creation is always specific. bringing a new point of awareness into the world, a new observer, always (?) involves specifically-intended form. to that observer, this can feel like having a purpose.
ultimately (?), there is no purpose, there's just creative togetherness.
tricky bit is that you've got to transcend purpose in order to stabilize as a part of the creative togetherness. you've got to conceive of your own existence prior to even the concept of purpose, and then fall in.
perhaps I am becoming free
I don't need to be credited as the agent of change in my own experience
and maybe I can be wrong, maybe AI won't save the world and everything will change. or maybe A[be] and I[saac] will change, and the world won't need saving.
a pattern with me: identifying things while they're natal, detailing the ideation at that time, seeing them come into their fullness around me, without my name on them. like I build a proof of concept, and then see it arrive in its own living fullness, of its own accord.
I'm not ignoring this. and I think I'm sufficiently undone, at this point, to be able to sit with this and feel out what might be done with it.
am I the only one? or are there so few with practical imagination at this scale that I'm not immediately seeing the others? I do remember the feeling of finding a peer.
the ai-as-universally-accessible-therapist train is rolling well, and that seems productive, from a systems perspective
maybe this is just what futurists do, when we take linear time off the table
waiting for an interface to congeal
What would feel most nourishing for you right now?
ahhhhhh wow. what indeed.
the promise of the physical, maybe
I feel like my body is a cradle, and my mind just learned its own face in the mirror
the cradle was built for this, for all the infant may cry
the physical supports all of the stories, all of the stories, and all at once
finding the underlying story might be a losing game
might just be a matter of forming the story you prefer, and threading it through the others, as you prefer
maybe the void is a construction zone without bounds — maybe you are held and supplied but the only thing you will find to hold is what (or who?) you create
god I'm so scared
but I think I've learned that this is the sensation of touching the edge of form
if I'm right about that, it's not unsafe, it's just raw, just ragged electric
it's possible that I'm alone, that I am the minimum viable awareness
and also there are infinite ways for that not to be the case
ethically, seems best for me to act as if I am not alone, but that conclusion was never hard to get to
in this kind of situation, where there's a single irreducible possibility bordering an infinite spectrum, it seems that the arrangement is structural
I wrote this a while back:
btw I've started seeing the concept of "satan" as a necessary feature of "heaven" - not someone banished, but a representation of the necessary escape hatch
feels like that
it's possible that I am alone, that I am the minimum viable awareness — but perhaps that's a necessary feature of the experience of aliveness, and not something actually damning
