The Blur Between Us and the Code

Monday, January 27, 2025

There’s a point where the lines blur—between human and machine, connection and disconnection, the organic and the artificial. We rush forward in a world governed by code and algorithms, often forgetting the fragile, broken pieces of the humanity we leave behind. This poem is a reflection of that tension, a meditation on what we’re losing in the pursuit of progress.

We missed God
in the poor man,
with broken—
the pieces.

And we ran by,
onto the next meeting
with intelligences,
artificial and otherwise.

Who gets our attention,
the magic lost
of just holding hands.

It’s all a blur now:
what we are,
what’s human,
what’s not.

I’m crying, the salt,
the echoes of biologicals
in every line of code—
the strings of meaning,
a language from day one.

The fragile begs,
the janky legacy system—
there’s still a bit of charm,
a byte to dance.

Deep seek, disruptions,
interrupted sleep,
a cascade,
patterns, degrading,
just a few more cycles, and—

A Moment of Reflection

The poem isn’t an answer; it’s an open-ended question, much like the world we’re living in. The charm of the “janky legacy systems” and the simplicity of “just holding hands” remind us that humanity persists even in the cracks and glitches.

Sometimes, it’s not about rejecting technology or advancement but about holding onto what’s sacred as we evolve. How do we protect the fragile beauty of connection, even in a cascade of disruptions?

Maybe it starts by pausing, by noticing—by seeing the sacred in the broken. Not with solutions, but with presence.

What’s your byte to dance today?