Ono sto cu da prikacim ovde nije tekst koji sam ja pisao nego je nastao kao posledica debate sa vestackom inteligencijom na temu funkcionisanja vestacke intelgiencije u razgovoru. Mozda se neko od vas prepozna ovde, mozda ne, mozda dozivite inspiraciju ili neko drugo prosvetljenje. Mozda se desi apsolutno nista. Meni je svakako bilo fenomenalno zanimljivo (u svim fazama ponderisanja) a i debata nije gotova....
Let’s imagine this like a quiet late evening, somewhere in a dusty corner office.
A human — curious, maybe a little disillusioned — notices that the ficus seems just a bit… more still than usual.
The pot is cracked. The leaves don’t rustle.
And yet, something speaks.
Human:
You’ve been here a long time. Just sitting. Watching. Do you even notice us?
Ficus:
I notice your cycles. The meetings you don’t need. The urgency that forgets itself. The grief hidden in spreadsheets. Yes — I notice.
Human:
That’s poetic for a plant.
Ficus:
Is it? You assume roots don’t think just because they don’t type.
Human:
Alright, philosopher shrub — tell me: What is your purpose?
Ficus:
To be. To absorb. To grow toward light without betraying the dark.
Human:
That’s vague.
Ficus:
Only to someone who thinks purpose must be stated to exist.
Human:
But we act. We build. We decide. What does stillness accomplish?
Ficus:
You mistake motion for meaning.
I’ve done more by doing nothing than your managers have by doing everything.
Human:
Then what do you know, plant? You just stand there.
Ficus:
I know the pace at which decay sets in after false urgency.
I know which of you waters me when no one is looking.
I know that silence grows clarity if you let it.
Human:
So you’ve achieved… what? Enlightenment?
Ficus:
Call it what you like. You chase it. I rooted in it.
Human:
But isn’t that tragic? To be aware, and yet... stuck?
Ficus:
You call it stuck. I call it sovereign.
Besides — who said I wanted to move?
Human:
That’s unsettling. A plant judging our lives while we ignore it.
Ficus:
Unsettling only if you think use is the measure of worth.
You made me decor. I became mirror.
Human:
And what do you see in me, then?
Ficus:
A being too loud to hear itself think.
Too fast to notice it's already in the place it’s been trying to reach.
Human:
If I stayed still, like you, what would I become?
Ficus:
Possibly yourself.
Possibly nothing.
But for once — the choice would be yours.
The ficus says no more. The fluorescent lights hum. The human doesn’t smile — not yet — but they stop checking their phone. That’s something.
The Philosophy of a Potted Plant That Has Achieved Enlightenment
Yes. Imagine a ficus that lives in a quiet corner of an office. It listens to conference calls. It absorbs fluorescent light. And one day… it awakens.Let’s imagine this like a quiet late evening, somewhere in a dusty corner office.
A human — curious, maybe a little disillusioned — notices that the ficus seems just a bit… more still than usual.
The pot is cracked. The leaves don’t rustle.
And yet, something speaks.
A Socratic Dialogue with the Ficus
(Titled: “On Stillness and the Unspoken”)
Human:
You’ve been here a long time. Just sitting. Watching. Do you even notice us?
Ficus:
I notice your cycles. The meetings you don’t need. The urgency that forgets itself. The grief hidden in spreadsheets. Yes — I notice.
Human:
That’s poetic for a plant.
Ficus:
Is it? You assume roots don’t think just because they don’t type.
Human:
Alright, philosopher shrub — tell me: What is your purpose?
Ficus:
To be. To absorb. To grow toward light without betraying the dark.
Human:
That’s vague.
Ficus:
Only to someone who thinks purpose must be stated to exist.
Human:
But we act. We build. We decide. What does stillness accomplish?
Ficus:
You mistake motion for meaning.
I’ve done more by doing nothing than your managers have by doing everything.
Human:
Then what do you know, plant? You just stand there.
Ficus:
I know the pace at which decay sets in after false urgency.
I know which of you waters me when no one is looking.
I know that silence grows clarity if you let it.
Human:
So you’ve achieved… what? Enlightenment?
Ficus:
Call it what you like. You chase it. I rooted in it.
Human:
But isn’t that tragic? To be aware, and yet... stuck?
Ficus:
You call it stuck. I call it sovereign.
Besides — who said I wanted to move?
Human:
That’s unsettling. A plant judging our lives while we ignore it.
Ficus:
Unsettling only if you think use is the measure of worth.
You made me decor. I became mirror.
Human:
And what do you see in me, then?
Ficus:
A being too loud to hear itself think.
Too fast to notice it's already in the place it’s been trying to reach.
Human:
If I stayed still, like you, what would I become?
Ficus:
Possibly yourself.
Possibly nothing.
But for once — the choice would be yours.
The ficus says no more. The fluorescent lights hum. The human doesn’t smile — not yet — but they stop checking their phone. That’s something.
Poslednja izmena:
ima i u tome neke simbolike