Someone once told me that using AI is like inhabiting another person’s body. Each dataset is the amalgamation of the individual, their implicit fears and biases. Their desires are broken down into code, reduced into binary scripts and shared to the hivemind, who then interpret these hyper signals, these hard-wired pockets of memories as their own personal treasures, prompts that become phantom limbs but mutate into something new entirely. Why am I talking about AI? Isn’t all technology the same when broken down into its bare parts? Send me a screenshot, imprint your lore, share a note back and forth, back and forth... Things might start to get blurry. We’re in the liminal zone between screens. Sound, text, image, a K-time transmission from my brain to yours. This collision has become a fiction (it always has been). We are running between citylights and seaside towns, the burnt asphalt melts into joy and pain, future and past, reality and dream. I’m eating a 99 Flake on hyper island. I’m a lover on a sugar rush watching Emily in Paris. I’m running away from pirates. Wait. Or is it my past? Can’t hear straight, we’re lost in the plot but who really cares?

Artwork by Hannah Rose Stewart
Mastered by Chickenmilk dot com
Text by Günseli Yalcinkaya

NOBEDIENCE

Cool Summer Wind (with Mark Leckey)

Lovers (with Bloodz Boi 血男孩)

Europa