-
I told my AI to find the coldest place in existence. It came back with this.
They say love needs the right conditions to grow. A cozy room, a sunny day. I call bullshit. I took that idea and threw it into the digital equivalent of a polar vortex. I wanted to see what would happen…
-
Your Urban Anxiety is a Choice. I Just Proved It.
They say the city never sleeps. I say, let it have its caffeine-fueled tantrum. I’m busy finding the off-switch. I fed my machine the endless noise, the frantic energy, the concrete chaos, and I gave it one simple command: find…
-
I asked my AI to paint loneliness. It showed me a mirror.
Everyone’s screaming about connection, but I see the truth in the static between us. I fed my algorithms the quiet desperation of a packed subway car, the vertigo of trying to stand still in a world that won’t stop spinning.…
-
I Broke Your Reality. The 9-to-5 is Now a Desert Mirage.
You think your daily routine is solid ground? I replaced it with shifting sand. I took the familiar—the morning commute, the farmer’s toil—and dropped it into a sun-scorched wasteland. The train platform is a dune, the fertile field is an…
-
They called my art vandalism. I told them the world is my canvas.
I got bored of sterile galleries and silent museums, so I taught my AI how to scream in color. We’re trading pristine white walls for the grit of the real world—tagging shifting desert dunes and turning the concrete arteries of…
-
I broke the desert. Now it thinks it’s an ocean and a concert hall.
The desert is supposed to be silent. A vast, empty nothing. I called bullshit. I commanded it to make music, coaxing symphonies from pianos made of sand. I taught its dunes to swell like the ocean, to become waves for…
-
I broke the laws of physics with a bucket and spade. You’re welcome.
Forget your rules. Forget your physics. I gave my AI the soul of a defiant child and told it to build where nothing should grow. It gave me back sandcastles on frozen lakes, sculpted with frozen mittens under a sky…
-
I built monuments to your ambition. They’re designed to collapse.
They tell you to build your empire, brick by brick. So I did. Except my bricks are melting ice and my skyscrapers are engineered from spaghetti. I’m not interested in things that last. I’m obsessed with the moment it all…
-
I taught my AI to hate your 9-to-5. This is its revenge.
They wanted spreadsheets. I gave them a circus. I fed my machine a diet of corporate jargon and TPS reports until it started hallucinating a world where the king of the jungle holds board meetings in your cubicle. This isn’t…









