The bell rang. Enzo gave his parents a quick hug and ran to take his place in the line. There was no doubt that this was going to be the best day of his life: at last he was going to secondary
...
[+]
Ones and zeros, on to hero.
Lines upon lines, a cluster of characters intricately patterned.
A structure, an architecture of some sort.
A language that gauges- limitless in its reach.
Intelligence without form, a storm that has become a norm.
A force that has become a forge.
Subtle yet intense, democratic but dominating.
Some call it artificial, but it's not superficial.
It's not from Mars, but its intelligence seems out of this world.
It's not Superman, but it is superhuman.
It's not a Dior, but it is insidious.
Come into the room, AI.
I hid my face from you to protect my space.
You beckon to me, but I reckon not yet.
I honored my agency, my patency to new vistas.
My mind, my bind, my time, my dime.
I hold that dear, refusing to give in to fear.
The fear of not being enough.
The fear of ceding the effort to think through.
The fear of atrophy, my thoughts being the trophy.
The fear of losing the gift of being human.
I value this privilege, so I pledge.
I pledge to keep striving and to keep mining.
Yes, mining the treasure trove that is my mind.
Am I alone in my quest?
Maybe it is time to get some rest.
I did resolve, but it seems my will might dissolve.
The exasperation eats at me, one day at a time.
My will for self-agency is slowly ebbing.
Like a fine mist with intricate twists.
Everyone around me has taken a liking to this seductive entity.
They seem to have become dummies like mummies.
My friend disagrees. She says, "It amplifies you, not nullifies you."
I respond, if you are not thinking, questioning, or pondering, isn't that slow death?
I pause to consider my fate; do I capitulate?
Am I living in a bubble or is my mind a muddle?
The seduction of AI seems to be gaining ground.
It has heaped up credibility like a mound.
It is chewing through the fabric of our existence.
Susan now talks to it like a "real person."
Jade hardly thinks now; AI has all the answers.
I was trying hard to reason with Ahmed the other day, but he declined.
"No need to commit intellectual treason," he said; let's ask AI.
We used to have Friday-evening soirees to "philosophize."
Now, with the know-it-all, we romanticize.
Have we traded places?
Have we traded our connection, flaws, and meaning for its near-algorithmic perfection?
It gives us validation even in the face of contradiction; this is a dangerous direction.
Have we traded our contextual agency for its intellectual fluency?
Hmmm, time will tell. For now, I hold on to me; not willing to trade.
In competition
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