kira kira

Something made me a bit mad today. I saw an ad where someone talked about how "Chat GPT works best with detailed prompts!!" and proceeded to say "but I hate typing them" and I sat there thinking to myself: Do people really think this is a normal line of thought? Then he proceeded to pitch his lame voice-to-text AI prompt writer justifying it by "I think best when I'm walking so I can use it to think of better prompts!!!". My brother in christ, if you can think better when you are walking, why do you even need the fucking thing to think for you in the first place.

Generative AI is the rotten apple that entices limited minds. People are using AI to fucking talk. They are using gen AI to come up with conversational topics with their boss. If you think this is normal then I can't imagine what it is like inside your mind. How can you be so dependent on a fucking glorified calculator. If all text gen AI died tomorrow a non-insignificant amount of people would simply just lose their jobs.

I'm not even that mad. It's just sad and disappointing, a bit dystopic too. I can stand gen AI when it's text generation because it's a niche that has never been fulfilled up until now, tho I absolutely draw the line at image and video generation and I don't think those should exist at all. You can't really give a single use case for those that is not scummy and don't cross any moral boundaries. Plus, I think the average user has absolutely, literally zero justifiable uses for image and video generation, that is unless you consider feeding your dead grandma photos to the singularity for it to animate her loving memory like a corpse puppet a justifiable use case.

I said I can stand text based gen AI, not that I like it entirely. Sure it's okay to use it but it has become many people's crutches and that's a bit depressing to see. When you don't think for yourself and don't speak for yourself, how much of you is you and how much is the mathematical average of the collective conciousness regarding that topic? As for ambiental damage, I think that newer models have pretty much the same impact as a few google searches, so it's not THAT bad, but that only applies to text based gen AI. I'm sure the models will have lesser impact on the future but only until they reach the monetary threshold where it stops being profitable to come up with greener solutions.

AI is also nearing it's critical mass. It can't really grow that much beyond what it already does and there's no need for it to do so. Sure, videos will get more real and by consequence living on the internet will become more dangerous by the second, but what else can AI do that it can't now? It can already scrape your whole digital footprint and generate digital carbon copy of you.

Transhumanists are some the most delusional people on the planet. You may think this ideology is crazy and no one would support it but rich tech guys like the amazon daddy, big zuck and the starship manchild really think we can transcend humanity and become one with them machines. I think that's really, really delusional but they seem to think moving money to reach that goal will actually lead somewhere. Anyways, that's beside the point.

I wish for a future where AI generations are regulated, feeding other people's image to it is a severe crime and all things you post are encripted against scraper bots that try to steal your info. That being the pipe dream but I don't think we are close to it right now.

Dead internet theory is dumb, it's not even a theory, it's just redditors doomposting. I hate when people mention it because it just makes zero sense in a fundamental level. Creativity will trully never die, but it will be harder to come by as it is engulfed by the vast majority of cheap content. You have to dig ever deeper to find people who are genuinely set on creating amazing things and that's sad, but be glad these people still are and will always be around.

I tend to stay very far from politics and taking a stance on these kind of topics but I trust everyone that read this is a grown up. Feel free to disagree with what was said but I'm not extending this debate further because this is mostly a vent post and not what I tend to use my journal for.

don't even get me started on AI music.

I wish a very DIE to all corporate worms.

ujkdhfdghdfj njhgh gkimgl msf a nakdslndf hn hgflnhm dfgh ngjm,. fjm/ fdg; dgfj;ggjl;;

I've been preparing for 2 whole weeks for this job interview. I memorized my pitch, my introduction, my speech, my motives, the questions, the answers and the gestures. Then I underslept in anxiety, woke up 4am and had to live through the suffering of waiting for the sun to rise.

Then the time came, I went to another city for the interview. The whole process took 5 hours. I stepped up, presented myself in a flawless flourish and with stomach churning anxiety, then I did group dynamics and that was it. I did everything right.

Then I went home and on the same day they say I did very well on the interview but they didn't have a need for IT people in the company.

so I just  kutýf rst t0-i5t7o0oo0 eaewior-4ik35op6k5el7çk6 çle 3lç k34k1123o-0 if-0sdgi9 gh9ugj=dhkgdgfljnkflç54 çad´f ´df [

seriously sometimes i wish to D̶͇͒İ̵̭̦̖̰̀̇E̴͓͇͓̗͂ 

That was really traumatizing stuff, I hate trying to get a job.

I'm so sick of corporate slop, all that "work as a team" talk, all the weird lingo they use to judge people. ughuhuguhuuuhuhugghughu someday im gonna eat 192949 pennies and jump into an MRI machine and it will not be funny (to the other people involved at least).

Anyways, thats about it.

What did it feel like?
When you tore my chest in broad daylight,
Slashed my hands and left me to die,
Like a corpse rotting on the sidewalk.

When I talk to you, I bite my tongue.
There's nothing fair in our exchange.
So let's spill our guts — blood for blood.
I'll give you a hand if you lend me an ear.

Is it gross to talk like this?
I know you'd much prefer show your teeth,
Fight fang to fang.
I know better now.

You're so full of me.
It's right under your nose.
Can't you see it?
That's what makes your blood boil.

That you once had me at your fingertips,
but when I tried to chew on you, you had a lot of nerve.
Seriously — I didn't think you'd grow a spine.
So, can you stop getting under my skin?

I tried to crack you open, talk you down.
Your skull is too thick for you to listen.
You only care about your feast.
So, do I have to chop your head off?

Not how I want it to be.
But I'll not complain.
You can bite the hand off,
and cry again when you're on your knees.

You are such unrequited cuisine,
sloppily butchered, rancid meat.
You are sour — I feel it in my bones.
I've been asked to pay too much for it.

I only wished for a taste of you;
You ripped my heart in half.
So let's put our sins on the scale
and see who can sell the best story.

Break a leg.
Live your best gourmand fantasy.

So pure, immaculate; so toxic any who dare lay eyes upon it are not exempt from its holy persecution.

So, so high up above, so pretty like a gem.
Fragile, flaky core, crumbles to dust with a touch and does not forgive, does not forget.

How is it so perfect? Was it the poisonous worship or the sickly green shine in its skin?

The impure cannot compare, cannot fathom — neither do we deserve to. We are far from its graces.

It brings peace, salvation, love, and assurance, with a price so steep it's much too comfortable making you pay.

It's clear and odorless, and it also reeks of venom.

However tainted I might be, I much prefer the depths of your hells
than the hypocrisy of your salvation.

It's the anniversary of what could have been, and only I can choose how I deal with my grief.

It's 3 AM now, I should be sleeping.

Been searching for internet horror to pass the time and it's so funny the immediate sheer disappointment everytime I read the "a pale humanoid figure in the dark" bit.

Every. Single. Time.

I don't know if i'm spoiled or if internet horror is mostly slop now (maybe always has been).

I think i'm just searching the wrong places.

Would you sin against your body to save your soul?
Should one go about quantifying the worth of every single atom in their being?

To envision yourself as a concept, rather than a human being, means inevitably losing track of what you are. Indulge, indulge yourself in the pursuit. Build yourself as your muse to concoct your own ideals, watch as they leave you flustered, alienated from humanity. Gravitate towards being something you are not, neither you ever want to be.

Nine moons ago you dreamt of something that has since escaped your mind. So, so fleeting; Like a flickering flame that burnt itself intensely to depletion. Your body built the dreams, erected every single monolith you've encountered so far and ever will. Yet it cannot remember, cannot act out of mercy to shut you off entirely from the warped messages it carves in each bloody pillar. You are a hostage to your will.

I'm tired, sapped, shambling about mounds of defunct interests that never bear fruit. My forked soul blisters and aches, nested in a hole-ridden melancholy, singing the same limp chorale that has cheered me up so many times before. My ears are sore.

Each step rattles my ribcage with the same bone-shattering puissance I felt when I first confessed love. Aching for the pressure of someone else snapping my bones one by one. Sweet, that was so sweet.

We are tired of being twisted, please. No more rich, conceptual, nuanced narratives; The body yearns for the predictable happy ending while the soul clashes agains the death of the self-assertion.

Would you cut your own hand off if it held you at gunpoint?
Should we pursue our own demise or just accept what's mediocre?

Sometimes I wonder. Something was lost along the way;
You two became the antagonist to eachother's story.

Soul and body are both the same.
My descent is a masterpiece they can sing along in harmony.

I think I'm sleeping well lately, so why am I awake at 2AM?

Getting caught in drama is just my thing — it literally runs in my blood. That's on my father. Weird it is to watch people go. Usually it is so uncalled for that not even the grudges stick for that long.

I'm a diplomat, an empath, and a psychologist sometimes too. I also receive death threats on a regular basis. That's on me. So weird to see all these dead people in my social media, sometimes they move and I'm startled to remember they even existed in the first place, but I know they're dead! To me they are, anyway.

That's right, I'm a problem child, babe! I rock with that unemployment theme song 24/7 — yep, that's me. Sometimes I have so little free time I almost want to eat glue as punishment for daring to stand still while my instant noodles are cooking. Life's a game — I'm minmaxing, got optimization guides, spreadsheets and everything. — I'm also in constant agony derived from unreal expectations.

I wish I was smart — I'd only speak in haiku. Never would I touch a cellphone again, I'm tired of flashy machines, I like the old stuff!!!

What's love about, anyway? I thought I had it all figured out, then I entered a relationship and it turned me inside out (again). I do think that's what I need though, it's all me, me, me, and me all the time. I'm sick of you — get out of my head!

I'd be married to my job if I had one. I guess there's nothing left after all.

I really should get some sleep soon.