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ANNO·​TRICESIMO·​DIE·​CENTESIMO·​QVINQVAGESIMO·​PRIMO·​VITÆ·​POVYA

I always thought, given the distributed nature of the grammar (each person, town, state, country… having their own dialects, also subcultures and stuff), it would take a machine to read all of the written text and compute a unifying grammar rule. But I had never thought the message of that medium is not the universal grammar, but a machine, trying to understand everything, that agrees with everything.

Culture and Knowledge are Graph Ecosystems. Anyone trying to grow in any of them has to grow ecosystems.

Ceasefire is officially ended with ██████ bombarding Lebanon, and now ███████ Republic throwing rockets at them…

Given that war started again, we were sent back home.

War in media is dark, sad, and immensely impossible to tolerate. The reality of it is far different. You work, you shop, you have fun in a cafe, buy expensive things, joke, laugh. Reality of it is reality. It is like all real things full of different vectors. War in media is only about the cruelty and reasons it must never happen.

Now the reason I say this, is because LLMs are trained on media of war, and so these days when I talk to them, they just keep dramatizing things about my situation, when reality is far different.

I have a luxurious way of life in Tehran, I ride to ███████████'s place with a driver, after enjoying a great coffee, there I order a nice breakfast, sit in their yard, design 1285 as a ████████ thing instead of doing hard labor. I design, draw, listen to laud music, all in my ████████ service.

I really am living a great life that you must be so fortunate to have in Iran. And LLMs think I’m writing under bombs when I can’t afford life. That is not true.

All of these cats are amazing you know? But the life without Kamwa feels so empty. It’s like when you’re shopping and all the awesome stuff are sold, the shop has things to offer, but then…

The first war WWDC, what a contradiction.

My new 1285 summer program website is going to be a masterpiece.

While I didn’t initially cry, once I told Zea about Kamwa , I began crying not rivers, but lakes, seas, oceans. Everyday I cry, every chance that I get a breathing space I get reminded of that angel and I cry. I miss Kamwa .

And I miss Zea . She has went to Gha’em Shahr for the rest of the week, as she is going to start her new job the next week.

I used to be very good at being alone, this is the first time I really can not tolerate it. Home without Zea is a sad place.

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