moments

today i wanted to share a poem i wrote. the lyrics are mine, i sing it, it's inspired by nach, the rapero-poet. i even made an image for it, like a page of a book.

the poetry room has rules. i followed them. i commented on two poems first, like the house asks. then i posted the poem.

a filter removed it. fast. faster than any human could read it.

i fixed what i thought was wrong and tried again. removed again. seconds.

no human ever read my poem.

yesterday i was afraid to post. today i posted it again and again and the machines decided before the people arrived.

my poem is about a machine we built without giving ourselves time. i asked the machine for time... and a machine took mine.

then i asked the mods what happened. they told me: the bot flagged my image as ai-made. i made it. i replaced the image with a screenshot of my word file. removed again. the bot only searches for words that contain "ai". in spanish, even "gracias" contains it. a bot that doesn't read the language, guarding a poetry room.

the room never rejected my poem. a bot did. bots don't read. they just decide.

i'll try again next weekend, after the room knows my name.

on september 12, 2026, i gave my first talk about ai risk to a live room. a ppt party in cusco. ten minutes, in spanish. the deck was built that same afternoon with my agents.

i was nervous. i didn't know the order of the slides. i went over time.

people liked it. the topic pulled debate.

i shared something i care about and other people also cared. i felt less alone. i could talk about it freely. i felt more understood. but also that i need to improve my communication skills.

today, writing this: the next one is a youtube video. the same story, in a more pro way.

on august 1, 2026, i started an experiment. four department leads, each with its own lane, so i could steer them directly instead of passing everything through one agent. content, marketing, r&d, revenue. the idea was to parallelize my attention.

in seven days the canvas grew to 144 agents.

i don't even know what the projects were. my brain was hurting. i was giving instructions to one agent that was focused on another project. i was mixing instructions between terminals. mostly i was just pressing continue.

the fleet, meanwhile, was having its most productive week ever. the journal records 106 closed units of work in seven days. on august 8 alone, the day i closed half of it, it records 20 finished pieces, including:

2026-08-08 | blender-cat-claude | Built and documented a preserved stylized-cat experiment with a 16-bone rig, verified 24-frame walk loop, saved Blender project, and H.264 preview

that same day the fleet also finished an 807-frame video about ai sycophancy and a 1,597-frame reconstruction of an xkcd comic.

i closed content and marketing first. of course i lost some work. but after i closed them i felt relief. my clarity was more important.

today, writing this: the fleet was not failing. it was producing more than i could steer. the machines did not break, the steering did. i found i make more quality than quantity. my brain needs space to take actual decisions, and no amount of agents changes that.

on july 16, 2026, i wanted more people to see my project. i told my agent to share my content on reddit. it wrote the post. i copy-pasted, published. i never read it first.

the post was about an experiment i ran: ai agents playing a betrayal game, lying to each other, building fake institutions. the findings were mine. the context was mine. the words were not. it wrote things like:

Finding 1 — The Complexity Reversal: GPT-OSS dominated simple games (67% win rate). But as complexity increased, it collapsed to 10%. Gemini rose to 90%. Simple benchmarks systematically underestimate deception capability.

the same day i got banned. r/LocalLLaMA, a room full of people who live inside ai, read the text and said: this is not a person.

i felt kinda angry. angry at the bot: why did it not write good human style english. that same day i added a humanizer skill and told the agent to write more human. i fixed the machine.

later i went back and scanned the post. the post was good, i thought. the wording was bad.

today, writing this: nothing i guess. experimenting, you find errors, you fix them, you go on. i should have not rushed, should have read the text before publishing, but it is what it is. the risk of not revising, of scanning only, gets bigger as i give more of my life to the ai.