Kept / Wept / Slept

For a while now,

I've been wearing house slippers that are way too big for me.

Firsthand experiencing the dangers of seeking (and knowing) too much,

and finding out, rudely, unceremoniously,

curiosity can kill more than just the cat.

While exciting to taste the fruity slurps of seemingly full-knowledge,

the satisfying crunch of acknowledgement,

like punching holes through a thick stack of warm copy paper,

the thrill of cliff jumps can culminate

into bum-first crashing into the deceptive deep.

Nobody warns you.

That the water is always shallower;

swallowing life too fragile to keep.

No one explains that the depth is a trick.

That the more that you dig, the less it will stick.

Hunger loud from the tum;

buns left in the breadbasket: none.

And thread count of those slightly expensive sheets?

No reliable guarantee of sleep.

Long story short,

if worry is the thief of joy;

self awareness is the enemy of miracles.

And so the slippers go into that unopened shoe cupboard, unused,

where their waiting feels quieter than it should.

Tick Tock ⏱️

Killed or spent

Wasted or passed

Borrowed or bided

Lost or saved

Caught or freed

So many things to do with time

Time is moving, surely

But is also the only constant

Your world may turn upside down today

But sure as shit, tomorrow will come

The sun will rise again like clockwork

Nothing more dependable than

the fresh slate of a new day

the promise of an untouched tomorrow

the premise of shiny unmade plans

the excitement of well-crafted ideas bearing fruit

the exquisite reward of when the building's built

Even though the literal building is always building

ChAI

I used AI to make my chai this morning.  

Why? Because I wanted to see if I’d still get that dopamine hit from something I didn’t even make.  

I wanted to know if, by outsourcing an experience whose only purpose was my own consumption, it would take away from it.  

By removing the act of boiling water, steeping tea—by only keeping the intent to make it—would I still feel the satisfaction when I took the first sip?  

I read somewhere that you should aim to do hard things. That when you push yourself, when you fight resistance, and break through the boundaries of what you thought you could do, the dopamine hit is bigger.  

But what happens when everything can be done by AI?  

What happens when AI whispers, "I got you," and we stop doing anything at all?  

The dopamine hit then wouldn’t come from the effort, but from the discovery that AI can do more, so we do less.  

But here’s the catch—AI will do more, and we’ll feel less.  

Less joy.  

Less self-reliance.

Less confidence.

Less you.