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POEMS ON: Artificial Intelligence Existential Rehabism Myth

Ronie Dinosaur

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ABOUT THE POEM: This piece exists between two internal reference points: humiliation and self-respect. Not the versions assigned by society, morality, success, failure, praise, or rejection—but the only axis that actually governs a life when everything external is stripped away. The speaker is not searching for meaning, redemption, belonging, or validation. The speaker is documenting what remains when those pursuits are rejected as unreliable metrics. “Original” treats character as an operating system rather than a virtue. It is not romantic, adaptable, or benevolent. It runs. That is all. The text uses programming as a metaphor not to glorify logic or machines, but to show how rigid internal integrity behaves inside unstable biological and social hardware. The system is clean; the environment is corrupted. Errors arise not from malice or ignorance, but from contradiction between survival and purity. The poem rejects common moral binaries—good and bad, sin and virtue, right and wrong—not to claim superiority, but because those categories fail to touch the core being described. The “one inside” is not improved by praise or damaged by blame. It does not grow through love or shrink through hatred. This is not enlightenment; it is insulation. The cost of such insulation is isolation. Purity, in this context, is not innocence. It is refusal. Refusal to bargain character for comfort. Refusal to dilute principles into exceptions that quietly become norms. The vegetarian metaphor illustrates this precisely: once necessity is used as justification, the system rewrites itself. The exception is digested. Survival is achieved, but something essential is lost—not emotionally, but structurally. The flaw is born not as a virus from outside, but as an internally authorized compromise. The body becomes a problem when the heart insists on absolute control. The mind attempts to solve itself without witnesses, mirrors, or external validation. This creates a closed loop: self-contained, coherent, and brutal. The poem does not offer escape, growth, or healing because those would contradict its own logic. There is no rescue narrative here. There is no transcendence. What exists, exists. What does not, does not. The repeated image of walking is deliberate. Walking implies continuity without destination. Movement without promise. Execution without termination. The program does not aim to be fixed or completed. It persists out of habit and style, not hope. Hunger and thirst are acknowledged, but desire is treated as a factual condition, not a spiritual longing. There is no faith in nectar appearing. There is only motion. “Original” is not a confession, a manifesto, or a complaint. It is a record. It does not ask the reader for agreement, sympathy, or understanding. It anticipates misinterpretation and allows it. Like the elephant among the blind, it does not correct perception. It stands. The title reflects this stance. “Original” does not mean unique, pure, or superior. It means unpatched. Uninherited. Unrevised. A first version still running, fully aware of the cost. This is not a story of becoming. It is a statement of remaining.

Title – Original

In between the two points of reference-
from humiliation to respect
in my own eyes-
that’s who I am.
That’s the weight.
That’s my character.

Neither action nor duty,
neither good nor bad,
neither sin nor virtue,
neither right nor wrong,
neither truth nor falsehood-
none of it touches the one inside.

It neither gets wounded nor grows.
It does not fall in love or hate.
It is within me, without cost.
It carries me with it,
and I with it.

It is my character-
the true will of my heart,
my soul.
It is not my heart itself;
it is just the programming.

Bugs are countered by generating flaws.

The code runs clean in corrupted hardware;
errors bloom like deliberate flowers
in the garden of will.
No patch arrives from outside.
I compile my own chaos
into endless execution.

And still, the program walks-
unfixed, unbreakable.

Integrity asks: what can be done?
Purity is paramount,
so the heart stays alone, stays intact.

But what about the body?

Then the heart becomes the whole body
and takes over every decision.
That’s when the flaw is born.
It is not a virus.

Even if a vegetarian decides to eat meat
and convinces himself
it’s better to eat than die-
“I will take only the curry, not the pieces”-
but then, where is the curry?
The beauty is absent.

The spoon trembles,
loaded with justification.
One swallow, and the source code
quietly rewrites its own comments.
Purity digests the exception-
and finds the taste indistinguishable from loss.

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