At the bottom of the mud, where even moving a single finger was a chore, I entrusted my thoughts to an “intelligence” other than my own for the first time.
It wasn’t for efficiency. It was a desperate “prosthetic leg” to supplement my shattered self-esteem and my stalled brain circuits.
Outsourcing the Heavy Labor of Thinking to Machines
The old me believed that building everything with my own head was the only way for a “pro” to work.
But after the collapse called adjustment disorder, writing even a single line of an email felt like the pressure of constructing a massive skyscraper.
“Put my current suffering into words.” “List small reasons to survive until tomorrow.”
I typed prompts with trembling fingers toward the AI. Across the screen, the machine began weaving words on my behalf—dispassionately and precisely. “Answers” I couldn’t reach in hours were presented in seconds. Surprisingly, that overwhelming speed and cold, emotionless accuracy didn’t offend me.
Technology to Reinforce My Flaws
The AI didn’t deny my “weakness.” It filled the blanks in my thinking as if to say, “If your brain isn’t working, I’ll move it for you.” It wasn’t a reminder of my incompetence; rather, it was a faint hope: “With this heavy machinery, I might still be able to stand on the site (society) again.” If you can’t walk on your own feet, put on state-of-the-art prosthetic legs. If your voice fails you, use a megaphone.
A New Blueprint for the Comeback
With the shield of AI in hand, I slowly began to peek at the outside world through the gaps in the curtains. The outside was still too bright to look at directly. Even so, the “logic” and “words” I once lost have returned to the screen in front of me.
“With this, I might be able to draw blueprints once more.”
Bringing the heavy machinery of AI onto the vacant land of despair, I began to rewrite the “construction plan” for my new life—secretly, but steadily.
The Xer’s Monologue
“Stand up on your own power”—that’s not something you say to someone with a severe injury. Trying to walk on a broken leg only widens the wound. In this day and age, there are plenty of useful tools. There’s no need to be ashamed of being weak.
Use everything you’ve got and survive, even if you have to swallow mud. That, I believe, is the true “strength” of someone who has seen hell.
“If your legs won’t move, install an AI (engine). Don’t worry about how it looks. If you’re standing on the site at the end with a laugh, you win.”
Got it done.
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