This week put me back into the clockwork again.

I went to a conference in Tyler this week. It was nice, and I felt a bit more in my zone again.

I stayed at a dorm. The room was pretty nice, like a typical college dorm: two navy beds, sleek wooden cabinets, closets, and a giant window from the fourth floor looking out toward the orange July sun. The bathroom was cute, but it was the kind with terrible white lighting one might find in a horror movie. I couldn’t complain, though, as it was miles better than a communal one.

I shared my room with another guy from a different college. We didn’t really speak to each other; the only time we talked was about showering because I love my hour-long cleaning sessions. Nevertheless, it was funny how we were in almost all the events together, even if we didn’t plan to be.

Being my second time at the conference, I could recognize some familiar faces. I cohosted a workshop, did an interview, and met some new people. It was nothing special, but it did feel different.

This honor society was and is my environment, where I could show my work and achieve things. Though it seemed at times that I was chasing victories to compensate for my dissatisfaction with myself. Many gave me compliments on my work, but I just pretended like it was nothing. My brain always tells me to take criticism and recognize praise, but I found my behavior succumbing to my emotions.

I’m often stuck in a dream. It always feels better than the present. Whenever I was done with daydreaming, I also experienced more motivation to accomplish things. Though recently, I’m starting to doubt whether it was beneficial to me or not. I can’t stop feeling like I haven’t done enough because I was not exhausted enough, but I, without fail, didn’t do anything at the end of the day. How could one be motivated yet unable to push themselves to do anything?

The research project my team is doing this time is about reimagining the future. I could tell we would be talking about AI one way or another. It’s almost inevitable.

I’m against AI integration in almost all aspects, especially regarding what separates humans from AI.

I don’t like how AI is being used to produce creativity. I think AI is inherently uncreative, and trampling on artists’ work to make music, art, poetry, or other forms of creative expression is just immoral. To see people using AI for that instead of actually training in the arts is disappointing; at that point, AI is not a tool anymore. Moreover, what’s going to happen in the future if to be creative is to be unwise? Many things are inspired, but there is a line between honoring and stealing.

I also think about how AI participates in the game of emotions. We have emotions, and for AI to just be used as propaganda, fraud, or utilized in the name of “love” is scary. AI can even make us parasocial now. Chatbots and virtual partners: some of us resort to them because we feel a need to escape loneliness. I wonder if in the future we will be able to differentiate human and AI interactions, and will the need for human companionship be reduced? I do not think so, but that’s food for thought.

All things considered, I do think AI is the future. It can do amazing stuff, but I feel like humanity is holding a torch without fuel. AI deals tremendous damage to the environment, and it is being used not just as a tool, but as a weapon. If we can’t confront the faults of our own creation, it might get to a point where the torch can’t be lit anymore. Funny how I said “we,” but I know not everyone shares this same semantics. I know money is needed for everything, but it is a never-ending fight. If a weakness makes a profit, why bother fixing it, right? Unfortunately, the fairy tale I thought could happen since childhood is not like reality.

Every now and then, I doubt whether I am being a skeptical realist or if I simply can’t keep up with societal trends like my elders. While I might be reckless, I refuse to be ignorant. My viewpoint constantly changes with the world, and until AI can earn my trust, I will approach it with caution.

After a day of work, a shower is often all I need.

Bathing is sacred to me. Unlike being in a bed, I get the choice to move around as I indulge myself in being, well, myself. It involves acting, dancing, singing, and having an introspective monologue. It feels natural; I can speak effortlessly in my true voice, reimagining myself in luxurious fashion, doing interviews like a celebrity, or hanging out as a girl.

But the fantasy is ruined if I look down and see my body.

I don’t know if this is common, but as it comes closer and closer to the day of my appointment, the worse I feel about my current face. I would sometimes dress up, walk around the room, and take a picture of myself. Lately, however, I can’t even put on a little lipstick when I see myself in the mirror. It is becoming desperate, like I’m overdue to tear through my cocoon. I guess it is a process every trans girl needs to get through: to feed the desire of wanting to be more, and to exist in ways where one wouldn’t concern themselves with being unworthy of a certain gender.

“Avoiding myself naked in the bath
Just to touch my body in the dark
I wanna find a place I feel alive
The beating of my heart
Is sure a place to start
Instead of me choking up and running

I get lost so deep inside me
In the start or in the ending (avoiding myself naked in the bath)
Last is my beginning
Full of life, but I’m starving
Over hills, overcrowding (avoiding myself naked in the bath)
Guess I thought the sunshine would
Be enough or something (body in the-)
Instead of it choking up my lungs?”

– Oklou & FKA twigs, viscus. 2025.