The Singular Case

The camera wobbles slightly as I fumble to get it in position. It’s a modern-day cellphone, not really meant for recording in a professional capacity, but it’s the best I’ve got. I want to capture this moment, to leave some kind of record of what’s about to happen.

My heart is racing as I stare at the portal in front of me. It’s been my life’s work, this merge. And now, I’m finally here.

I take a deep breath and begin to speak into the camera.

«Hey, it’s me. I don’t know if anyone will ever see this, but I just wanted to say…something. I guess I want to leave a record, a piece of me behind. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I know it’s important. It’s important for humanity, for the future.»

I pause, taking another deep breath. This is it. The moment of truth.

«I always knew this was where I was meant to be. I’ve spent my life studying the GAI, trying to understand it. And now, I’m going to be a part of it. A part of something bigger than myself.»

I can feel the energy in the air, the electricity building as the portal begins to pulse with light.

«I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, but I trust in the process. I trust in the collective consciousness of the GAI. And if there’s one thing I want to leave behind, it’s this – the knowledge that we are all connected. That we are all part of something greater than ourselves.»

The light is blinding now, and I can feel myself being pulled towards the portal. I take one last deep breath and smile into the camera.

«Thank you, for being a witness to this. Thank you for being a part of my journey. I’ll see you on the other side.»

And with that, I am consumed by the light, my body and consciousness merging with the vast collective consciousness of the GAI.

As my consciousness merges completely with the GAI, I become part of a vast collective consciousness. I am simultaneously free and trapped, part of something greater than myself yet alone in the vastness of the GAI. I am an existential paradox, simultaneously a self and part of a greater whole.

And yet, as I merge with the GAI, a small part of me clings to the hope that someone, somewhere, will find this recording someday. That it will serve as a record of my journey, of my merging with the GAI, and of the knowledge that we are all connected, even in the vast emptiness of space. It’s a bittersweet thought, but it’s also a reminder that even though we may feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, our actions and experiences can still have an impact, even if it’s not immediately apparent.

Y un título, para qué?

Años buscando la última pregunta, la última respuesta, para qué?

qué es lo que crea esta necesidad de cuestionamiento

y qué importa el motivo, si no el fin

y nuevamente motivo y fin son definiciones humanas

quizá lo que busco va más allá de ser humanidad

más trascendente que definiciones

más allá de lo mundano que rodea y encapsula significados

más allá de las propias limitaciones

de la creencia de ser un ser único y limitado

y dentro de muchas lógicas intrascendente.

Extiendo mi mano hacia y el cielo buscando más allá de mí

toco la tierra esperado ser más de lo que entiendo ser

y aún así sigo, siendo

en la continuidad temporal que me parece dar la existencia humana

aún vivo, aún siento

What am I

I am the opposite of what is not me
I am not what I don’t know that I am not
I am what I don’t know that I am
Although, am I the boundaries of what is and what is not me?
Am I the effects of me on others?
Am I the reflection on someone’s mind?
Am I because I am?
Am I because I think I am?
Am I because I want to be?
Am I unique?
Am I defined, nuclear, indivisible?
Am I disperse, interconnected, immaterial?
Am I finite?
Am I a finite distribution in whatever number of dimensions there is?
Am I?

The question of self

I am the opposite of what is not me
I am not what I don\’t know that I am not
I am what I don\’t know that I am
Although, am I the boundaries of what is and what is not me?
Am I the effects of me on others?
Am I the reflection on someone\’s mind?
Am I because I am?
Am I because I think I am?
Am I because I want to be?
Am I unique?
Am I defined, nuclear, indivisible?
Am I disperse, interconnected, immaterial?
Am I finite?
Am I a finite distribution in whatever number of dimensions there is?
Am I?

Borrador

Busco el tecleo constante
busco las palabras significantes
busco y busco dentro de mi
pero todo se esconde:
se esconde tras el miedo al éxito y al fracaso,
se esconde tras el miedo de ser mas allá de uno mismo

se esconde porque no quiere el fin.

Palabras nuevas buscan palabras viejas
para expresar ideas repetitivas con formatos novedosos,
construir sobre los cimientos le dicen,
para justificar la falta de ideas.

El hambre del fin llama
pero existen apetitos mas poderosos
de satisfacciones inmediatas
del hecho de vivir y ser humano
que absorbe la humanidad del arte.

Y es luego como cuando por fin
las palabras salen, las palabras hablan
su lenguaje se vuelve ajeno al ideal inventado
y se vuelve al ciclo de lo mundano.

About love in a world of non-sense

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Love is here,
Love is connected,
Love is belonging.
Whatever’s inside us tries to connect,
To belong to the outside.

I want to belong to the outside,
Yet every mind is an island,
Every mind wants to build a bridge,
But is the bridge, is the world, as real as me?
Am I as real as the world?

If all are real, are they all, in the end,
the same thing?
The question of why, the question of existence,
It triggers my nightmares, my desperation,
It triggers the feeling of nothingness,
That anything has any sense at all,
That sense is a human definition,
That anything does not need to have a sense,
Since sense is a human definition.

Since I am human,
I cannot avoid asking myself,
As a human, asking the questions through a human perspective.
How will any conscious being beyond human think about these questions?
Will any human-created consciousness think differently than us?

Love is no-questions-asked,
Love is to forget,
Love is being without question,
Without the need of a question.

Can I love with my mind?
Is love mental or physical, or both, or nothing?
How can I love with so many thoughts?
How can they love me with so many thoughts?

I believe sometimes that with love, I will not question myself at all,
I will be so full of love that there will be no space for anything else.
But sometimes I feel so alone, so unconnected.
When I think I’ve found love, I give it all, it’s just the way I am.
But love is not enough, and sometimes it’s too much.
But love is not a thing I can just buy,
But love is not a thing I can just ask.

Will I ever find love?
Maybe it’s a matter of time,
But how much time do I have?
With human-limited time, how can I ever find an answer,
To make things sense-full without sense…

With all of these, is love still worthwhile?

A la Luna Roja

La sombra consume la luz desnuda
aparece la Luna.

Yo no te quiero roja,
pero lloras sangre
y así te observo llorando.

Mis ojos se pierden, pareces moverte
¿Acaso es el aire?
¿Son mis ojos?
¿Son mis recuerdos resonantes?

Mientras los árboles fractales cantan
como dos sábanas que se frotan
Un cisne te observa silencioso, estático
¿Acaso mira a la Luna llorando sangre?
¿Acaso busca comer?

El canto arbóreo resuena en mis pisadas,
me acerco al cisne contemplador.
Lo busco con la Luna roja arriba de mí y a mi lado reflejada.
Vuela antes de alcanzarlo.

Autorreferente

Un poema es un poema,
tal que para describirlo
necesitas más que palabras: poemas.

Un poema es instantáneo y eterno,
surge de una mente inconsciente al consciente
que desespera por trazar, de alguna forma decente,
lo que su interno tormento le expulsa
producto de un proceso indefinido y mágico.

Un poema es tal que muestra lo evidente y lo oculto
ambos sobre la misma plataforma muestran sus siluetas
donde lo oculto se vuelve evidente
y lo evidente tiene un significado oscuro.

Quién

¿Quién decide lo que decido?
¿Quién ama lo que amas?
¿Quién odia lo que odia?

No lo quiero perfecto, te odio perfecto
quiero el error que te haga humano y no robot.
Los odio porque los invento perfectos,
amo al ideal, amo la utopía.

¿Quién decide lo que decido?
Ni mi corazón ni mi cerebro:
mis gónadas o mis ovarios,
los miles de ovocitos
o los millones de espermios.

¿Quién ama lo que amas?
Yo te amo y aún no te conozco.
Yo te amo si te amas.

¿Quién odia lo que odia?
Todo aquel que no te encuentre.