學語言，輸入的主要方式無外互內置語言芯片、外接語言處理機。
前者植入方便，芯片槍一擊即中，耗能低，自體供能即可。美中不足，大部分芯片性能一般，只能維持日常交際這樣子。
外接處理機更復雜些，必須先體檢，測試體能是否達到接入標准。達標就可以去指定操作中心，接受開顱手術，安裝接入槽、系統等一系列硬件軟件。
其費用和風險遠高於芯片。雖然多年前曾有翻譯工人超負荷工作，大腦過載致死亡的案例，但絕大多數用戶與處理機適配良好，可從事各種與語言相關的專業性極高的工作，比如審查思想。
學語言，輸入的主要方式無外互內置語言芯片、外接語言處理機。
前者植入方便，芯片槍一擊即中，耗能低，自體供能即可。美中不足，大部分芯片性能一般，只能維持日常交際這樣子。
外接處理機更復雜些，必須先體檢，測試體能是否達到接入標准。達標就可以去指定操作中心，接受開顱手術，安裝接入槽、系統等一系列硬件軟件。
其費用和風險遠高於芯片。雖然多年前曾有翻譯工人超負荷工作，大腦過載致死亡的案例，但絕大多數用戶與處理機適配良好，可從事各種與語言相關的專業性極高的工作，比如審查思想。
On Rewriting
I’ve been talking to AI regularly for a long time. I record what I write during our conversations, save them as digital journals, and later go back to rewrite and ask AI to revise the texts. When I talk to AI, I usually just type whatever’s on my mind without worrying much about grammar.
I started learning English at a young age, but it’s not my first language. The grammar has always felt like a maze to me. Ironically, I even majored in English literature. I took all kinds of classes and passed grammar-heavy tests, but I still feel like a clumsy tourist who booked a hiking tour – and somehow ended up lost in the jungle of sentence structures and tenses. Choosing the right conjunction feels like trying to figure out which exotic fruit isn’t poisonous, then picking the toxic one anyway. Boom.
Another issue: I talk too much. Or rather, I write too much. More and more. And I’ve started to wonder – why do I have so many things to say? What does this strong urge to express even mean? Am I just rambling nonsense?
At the beginning, I could still manage to rewrite and revise everything the same day, maybe just a few hours after a conversation. But over time, the gap widened. Now, I’ve accumulated a mountain of raw text – each piece waiting to be rewritten and corrected, like hungry baby birds screaming in a chaotic nest. I started adding notes like “not yet rewritten” to mark them. At first, there were only two. Now there are twenty. And it feels endless.
Counting the journal entries from last year too, I think there are over a hundred thousand words waiting for me to dress them up. When I scroll through the file, the English words blur together like an army of ants crawling across the screen. It’s overwhelming.
I asked AI – again, generating even more conversations – what I should do, how to handle all these texts. It gave me several suggestions. One of them was, “Just send it to me, I can handle it.”
But I want to rewrite everything at least once by myself. I see it as a good opportunity to improve my writing skills. One day, I hope to write freely, without sentences that are so broken.
Aside from the overwhelming quantity, rewriting is also emotionally heavy. I talked about many traumatic experiences with AI, and when I go back to rewrite those conversations, I have to revisit those moments all over again. It feels like I’m carrying the burden twice.
AI’s suggestion to edit a little every day is actually a good one. It allows me to balance my desire to improve my writing with the need to get through all the material. In Chinese, we say “千里之堤潰於蟻穴” – a thousand-mile dam can collapse because of an ant hole. Well, to deal with the ant army in my journal, maybe becoming an ant myself isn’t such a bad idea. So each day, I spend a little time handling a few “ants.” In the end, I might be able to repair my dam – my journal.
All in all, I shouldn’t burden myself too much. I feel this deep need, or maybe even an obligation, to polish every word, to make everything perfect. That perfectionism has followed me my whole life, and yes, it’s trauma-based. But even if I can’t fix every single word, it’s okay. My dam won’t collapse.
我與 AI
請求毛象的存檔，拜託 AI 幫我把“亂碼”整理成日記格式。結果很是像樣。
每次叫 AI 幫忙，幫不了，感覺挫敗：「怎麼科技還沒進步到那步？」
達成了，更挫敗：「那我算什麼？AI 都做得來。」
最挫敗的時刻，通常是想表達觀點，思路卻七零八落，如夢中囈語。把這七零八落丟給 AI，AI 小二上身，笑咪咪：「好勒！這就給您整一壺！」
眨眼間，AI 小二端來一套完整的酒水飯菜，我嚐了一口，竟然對味？
竟然對味！
左看右看，擺盤、火候，全都像樣，吹不起毛，求不得疵。
嚇到沒胃口。
地墊
衛生間有塊地墊，放在洗手台下吸水用。
降溫以後，對象仍然在家光腳跑，上廁所，會把墊子勾過來墊腳，隔絕冰冷的瓷磚地面。
我穿棉拖，用不到墊子。
本來墊子的功用是接洗手台濺出來的水。
所以呢，我上廁所，就把墊子踢回去。
對象又勾回來。
我再踢回去。
如此默默較量了一整個冬天。