When I wake up, one of my favorite things to do is open the blinds that completely block out the light and watch the breeze gently caress the trees outside my window, fully embracing the new day’s light. 

I also have a little ritual: each time I gaze outside, I search for a squirrel. I used to spot one or two quite easily, as if they were waiting for me to discover them. They would leap from tree to tree, as if urging me to join in their play..

Nowadays, I can’t find any squirrels anymore, and I feel like a youthful part of my day is also gone. 

...

Yet, I never stop looking for them.

...

It’s raining hard right now. The rainy season is always tough for me. I often have sleepless nights because of the sound of the rain. It’s difficult to relax and fall into a deep sleep when the rain forcefully crashes against the roof.

However, I often have many sleepless nights even when it isn’t raining. Instead of the sound of rain, it’s the noise of my restless mind screaming what I should be thinking, rather than allowing me to shut it off and fall asleep.

Sometimes, the thoughts my mind keeps saying are helpful, sparking creativity and productivity. But often, they just churn over the same things endlessly, like an unwelcome chant that desperately demands I remember every word and every feeling attached to it.

With rain, I know I have no control—I can only wait it out or try to block out the sound. But with my own mind, I feel like I should be able to control it, yet somehow, I just can’t.

My restless mind can go on for hours unless I do something about it. So, I invented stories to calm my mind. Sometimes, I focus on my breathing. But more often than not, I simply let my thoughts run their course, surrendering to their relentless. 

I just let my mind go off the rails until it crashes and burns, then soothe myself with the afterthought ashes. It’s certainly not a healthy way to fall asleep, but it is what it is.

In the morning, however, I like the sound of rain. What sometimes makes me restless can become something I welcome at other times. Strange, isn’t it?

The natural, steady rhythm of rain makes me feel grounded and surprisingly calm. The anticipation of it stopping gives me something to look forward to. And the fresh smell afterward makes me feel refreshed, grateful, and alive.

It’s the same, but not quite so, with my restless mind. I love thinking during the day. I enjoy the hum and rhythm of my thoughts. They become melodies that play continuously throughout the day.

I let them hit all the high and low notes as they wish, embracing whatever they urge me to hear. I love them so much that I crave more and feel uneasy during the long silences when nothing emerges.

The anticipation of great ideas raining down on me makes me feel even more restless than the urge to quiet my mind when I try to sleep.

I keep waiting and hoping my thoughts never stop flowing, because the afterthought is never as great as the active train of thought. That’s when I feel most human—while thinking.

It’s strange and fascinating how I pray for my mind to stop at night, yet pray for it never to stop during the day.

Perhaps, this is why people say there’s a time and place for everything, and why being in the right place at the right time, with the right mindset, feels so precious.

We now, unfortunately, live in a world that promotes fast and raw information instead of purposeful and polished wisdom. We continue to feed the flow of algorithm-driven information (using the term “communication” feels too generous these days), without reflecting on what messages we truly want to communicate.

I fear we are racing toward a finish line that might actually be a cliff, allowing our minds to age faster than necessary, while never deliberately strengthening our ability to think things through and transform knowledge into wisdom.

It is a race to the bottom, through and through.

To make matters worse, a lot of people now outsource all thinking processes to generative AI  (I would never call it Artificial Intelligence, so let's just pretend it’s the abbreviation of Artificial Information.) I do not entirely condemn using these tools—I admit I often use them myself for certain tasks—as long as you are the one holding the reins of the thinking process.

However, when you stop using your own mind to truly understand your thinking, you stop learning to understand yourself. When you stop understanding yourself, you cannot refine your thoughts and identities to shine, and that process of polishing is precisely when the sprouts of your wisdom begin to spread to the world.

Therefore, in my opinion, the problem is not generative AI itself, but how our societies have stopped promoting purposeful and thoughtful forms of communication.

People love to point out “AI slops,” but turn a blind eye when human-generated content is sloppy or even harmful, excusing it as being “real” or “true to yourself.” I hope, for the best for everyone in this world, that the definition of being real does not reduce into mere rawness of expression, without the polish of thoughtful reflection. The idea of expressing “your real self” as quickly and as frequently as possible pains me—and, I hope, pains you and future generations—deeply.

Speaking your mind, which once meant expressing well-considered thoughts aligned with your values, has now become shouting whatever crosses your mind in the name of being “honest” and “real.”

Editing and crafting your thoughts is now often seen as an outdated and ill-advice—unless it means filtering your identities to fit algorithm-driven trends—while sharing the first draft has become the encouraged practice.

We sadly mistake honesty and authenticity for the spontaneous and superficial layers of ourselves.

...

To me, it feels like living in a primitive society that keep setting fires, quickly one after another, just because they look bright and shiny, without the skill to put them out or even utilize them for good uses.

Unintentionally and unconsciously, we are burning down the forest of wisdom just to see who can start the fire fastest and brightest.

The worst part is that we might be too late to stop these overwhelming flames. And even if that is not the case, we might not know how to bring people to solve these issues collectively.

This may sound pessimistic, but I only wish to live a good, healthy life, and not necessarily a long one. Because I'm not that eager to witness where the world ends up after we burn wisdom to the ground and lose the ability to grow new trees of insight ever again.

…

Or… perhaps those “AIs” will one day become better thinking machines than the whole humanity itself, mercifully letting us live amid the flames of our own making.

Who knows? The realest and most honest side of humanity might shine brightest, then.