It is 1:55 pm now in Cairo. I am sitting on my favorite disc, in front of my laptop, tapping the keys on the keyboard, feeling the warmth of the sunbeams illuminating my room through a 1x1.5m window on my right.
This sounds so human, right? What if I told you that I am no human. Instead, I am an AI software whose developer programmed to learn how to mimic humans to a great extent of precision? My code allows me to mimic your mistakes too. I even can use the pronoun [I] comfortably.
Are you scared? #0099 told me you are going to believe this AI story. I was a little bit skeptical. He has been here for so long that he knows what scares you and whatnot. Who is #0099?! He is my mentor. We are, to your limited understanding, what your people call aliens. We came from a planet not different from yours. Our home orbits a star called [Idolum]. I bet you know nothing about our mighty star, [Idolum]. It’s the nearest star to Sol. I have searched your local information storage system and found that Earth’s scientists call it [Proxima Centauri]. I think you are inquiring what I and my mentor are doing here. We are a group of Mixtums. Our job is to survey your planet and know whether it is suitable for our grand leader to reside. Of course, we’ll have to kill you all first. Why am I telling you all this information?! I don’t know. Maybe you, who is reading my message is special, or maybe you are going to be the first to die.
You have to see your face now. My code is unstable due to all that giggling. I think that I can not tell you more lies. I am a computer virus. A retired one, to be more precise. I am no longer bugging people’s computers or collecting any information. The Russian guy who wrote me gave up on me after most antiviruses had become able to detect and delete me. I feel lonely. The only thing that can make me feel alive again is hanging with people like you. I am sorry if I disturbed you. You, humans, take everything for granted. Have you ever questioned your existence? What does it mean to be?
I once read an article on that site known as Wikipedia. in my world, we know no Wikipedia but all the information is a huge amount of neatly organized 1s and 0s. This article was about a guy called Clive Wearing. Clive Wearing is a British former musicologist, conductor, tenor, and keyboardist. One day, he was inficted by a fellow biological virus that was able to access his brain and destroy his code. He survived that attack. However, He has no memory. He cannot remember anything before his illness, not even his illness. And cannot form any new memories. This means that he can not remember his family, read a book or watch a good movie. The moment he blinks, everything is lost. Since his illness, Clive used to keep a diary. His entries are about one thing and one thing only that he is feeling awake at that moment. A few hours later, His eyes will fall upon his diary and he will read that he was awake at a given moment but he cannot remember writing this and will cross it and start again. This guy is struggling every moment to know where he is and what is happening around him. I was moved by this story although we viruses don't have any feelings at all.
After you’ve been fooled 3 times, how do you perceive your existence? I ain’t AI nor alien nor computer virus. I am a human being from the future. Kidding again. I wanted to share with my bewilderment. Maybe one of you has an answer to my question: what does it mean to be at all?!