My Brain Is Being Rewired by AI

Painterly cinematic illustration of a lean bald man in a color-blocked tee, khaki shorts and checkerboard slip-ons sitting on a broad flat rock in golden-hour woods, phone in hand, working calmly.

I find myself surrounded by technology.

My Mac mini M4 Pro is a mostly headless computer, but it's connected to a nice 4K monitor for when I need to look at things. But I look at things on my iPad — an iPad M2 Air, that's the correct way of saying it. Mostly, I'm developing and working on my phone. And I have two phones.

And I have two remote-in agents. One named Nopey, one named Sunny. Sunny lives on a completely headless Windows 11 computer that just displays my security camera in the driveway.

Abstract neon Tokyo dorm-room illustration glowing purple and orange: stacked monitors and screens, scattered computer parts and cables, paper lanterns, speakers, two phones and a small driveway security-camera screen, music in the air; the man sits absorbed among his technology.

Something's rewiring me. I can feel it — my life, the shape of it, the way my head moves now. It's the AI. Not in some abstract, think-piece way. In the things I've actually been able to build. The things that exist now because I sat down and made them. That does something to a person.

There's a trepidation in it, sometimes. I won't pretend there isn't. But it's not fear — I need to be clear about that. Fear's the wrong word. It's the other thing, the one you feel standing on ground nobody mapped for you, looking out at it.

Painterly illustration of the same man standing at the edge of a wooded ridge at golden hour, phone at his side, looking out over rolling forested hills to the horizon.

And here's what I've started to notice: my social life has gone lopsided. Heavy on my side. I'm the one putting the ideas out — into the world, through the people I know. I'm handing them out. Broadcasting. The source and the signal both.

Painterly illustration of the man holding up his phone in the woods as soft glowing concentric signal-rings and motes of light radiate outward into the trees and sky.

And that ties into why I've been so prolific. Why I'm able to get work done so easily now.

There's a nice flat rock out by Puppy Ridge where I can spend quiet afternoons and still get as much work done as I do anywhere else.

Painterly illustration of the man walking a wooded path toward his flat working rock, an iPad under one arm and his phone in the other hand, dappled golden light.

Painterly illustration of the man lying flat on his back on the flat rock in golden-hour woods, ankles crossed with one foot up in the air, holding his phone above his face, his iPad propped on a small stand on the rock beside him.

And yet — here I am. In my Tokyo-style dorm room. Developing, creating, being artistic. Listening to music, singing, watching old movies, consuming television series — all while getting the best work of my life done.

Abstract neon illustration in purple and orange of the man dancing mid-motion, glowing soundwaves and color trails swirling around him, his phone still in one hand as he keeps working while the music plays.

Anyone else agree with my thesis or theory? Got a story of your own? Comments are live!

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