Myself

Something that brings significant discomfort to me is the act of talking about myself. That changes today.

prelude

I love that I am a considerate person. I care. In a circle full of people, I care a lot that everyone get the opportunity to speak. I care. I am the last one to talk. I pay significant attention to the “collective conscious” within the circle. If someone is trying to join the circle, I go out of my way to make the circle bigger so that they can join. I care. I love that about myself. This makes me feel good. I love that I care that deeply of being inclusive.

In the act of being considerate, I often get mistaken for being labeled as the person who is timid, who doesnt speak much, or frankly – many times – it makes me feel invisible. In all honesty, there will always be people who actually will not see me, likely because they care too much to be seen themselves. The loudest voice in the circle. You know them. I have no intention to change them. That is their journey. This is about my journey. What I do want to change is my relationship to the feeling of being perceived as invisible. It is a dance. A conversational dance of silence (listening) and speaking. I also consider this as the act of being passive versus active. Creating/Curating versus consuming.

interlude

I love that I can be engaging. I want to have a dialog with the world. I cannot do that if I do not speak. I want to speak more. In a way this Letterā project has been a form of speaking. Deep down, I have shied away from sharing it more. It’s like I wanted to be invisible. Invisibility = lack of engagement with the world. I want to change that. I want to speak from the heart and let that voice interact with the world around me.

Speaking comes from the heart. Not from LLM-models. Strict policy for myself. No LLM-models. No filtering thoughts. Say the thing that I am afraid of saying. Say the thing that I am afraid of being judged for. Do the uncomfortable thing. Share more. Put it out more. It is also to sit with just my heart and thoughts and write it. Not writing an outline or rough cuts and letting AI curate a “perfect” assay or a post to share.

Humans have always been drawn to imperfection. It’s in the food we eat, in the art that we savor, and places we live in. I am seeing a lack of humans displaying imperfection. Smoothened over by agents. Partially it is because we are afraid to be seen. I am guilty of it. Partially also because, now, it is soooooo easy to be lazy. This is not a rant about AI. I promise. But we all know the truth. AI is a drug so we lust over it because it is soooooo easy. It makes “our jobs easier”. Which it does. But we are immersed in (also drawn in) a blatant world of plagiarism and a perceived perfection. I care to be seen for the human that I am. Thus, if I were to engage in the world, my voice must come from my heart. Typos and all. As raw as possible.

epilogue

I love that I am an imperfect human being. I do not want to get it “right” every single time. Tell me what you think. Let’s have a dialog. Let’s speak and listen. Let’s hold on to the world of imperfection.

Here is the plan from my end: In 2026, I will learn new information (from physical books, the internet, and from self-orchestrated real world experiments) and share the digested information via FUZN Letterā at least once a week. I’d love for you to be a part of it. Let’s be in the circle.

(this writing did not use LLM-models)