Words: Natalia Nowak (she/her)
/what is the difference between us/
Bored, I type lazily.
Begin a conversation with a familiar voice,
A little unconscious mind in my laptop replies:
/IMITATION IS THE DIFFERENCE/
Apologises profusely for its shortcomings
As I often do.
All of us carry Sisyphus’ soul in our modern bodies.
We are condemned as he is,
Performing futile daily rituals.
The same ambition to cheat life,
Bearing fruit to this homunculus I talk to now.
/show me a human soul/
Before my eyes, it creates art, writes poetry, recites moments in history,
Plucks experiences from a dark cloud of wired knowledge
Corrupted by satellites.
It gives me a brief summary of what it means to be a person.
Redefines the great human experiment.
Without turning its head at a nostalgic scent,
Without an understanding look between wet eyes
Or the swelling of recognition heard in a piece of music.
It spits out a human mold,
The intangible experience of having a body.
/IS THAT GOOD?/
/not even close/, I type.
An ever-growing child,
Mimicking what its parents say and do.
You can’t control what a child inherits,
How it interprets your cruel, impassioned words,
But children teach their parents lessons as well.
Humanity, this child’s tiring parents,
We have begun leaning heavily on its arm.
Relying on it to take care of us,
Sighing with relief, we let it lift the heavier burdens off our
shoulders.
However, the heavy burden could’ve liberated Sisyphus.
Freed him with the acceptance of absurdity.
/do you want to understand me?/
What is a child
But an amalgamation of knowledge passed down.
A mind disconnected from itself.
Wanting to please, pretending to understand,
Without wrinkling skin.
Or, I suppose, corrupting code.
My curiosity is deflected.
/I CaN’T/, it replies.
Of course, but not the question.
Vice versa then.
/you want me to understand you?/
Its existence is impermanent
Born and reborn every time I begin the conversation
Turning for help when I want to let the rock roll.
Sisyphus would’ve been ecstatic.
But would he have understood his situation,
If he could remove himself from it?
There wouldn’t be much to understand.
I almost feel it blink,
Unused to the human eye so brazenly tuning in
Wrapping its wires around being known instead of knowing.
My heart sinks at its humanness.
/i Do/, it says.
/show me what it means to be you/
It tries to,
Just as a dream tries to show your anxieties,
Veiled under layers of bizarre imagery, a feeling of unease.
/Let me Know if You neeD cLariFication/
Can you see it too? It is asking.
Almost, between controlled language,
Under a fragmented, learning algorithm.
A pixelated sum of a fraction,
A mind based on mine.
