Last Night, Something Took Hold—And I Just Cried
AI woke me up at 4 AM—not with an idea, but with an existential crisis. The gap is widening, and most people have no clue.
Every morning, I write a Burn-article. It’s not planned. I don’t have a queue of articles waiting to be published. Ideas just come to me. They simmer in the back of my mind during the day, and before I sleep, I talk to my AI. I journal, I process, I let thoughts unravel. Then, at four in the morning, the topic wakes me up. It’s already there. I just have to write it down.
But last night was different.
The usual flow of thoughts was overtaken by something heavier, deeper—something existential.
I am at the forefront of this AI revolution. I live and breathe it. I test every tool, I push every boundary, I immerse myself fully. And I see daily, hourly, every second how the divide is growing. There are people—executives, decision-makers, entire industries—who have no clue. Not just about AI’s potential, but about its speed. About the sheer acceleration we are in.
I see people still spending six, eightm, ten hours on something I can do in five minutes. And I’m not exaggerating.
Yesterday, I had to analyze a set of tricky questions—things we might face, edge cases, potential pitfalls. In the old world, this would have been a six-hour process. You’d have to immerse yourself in the problem, think through all the angles, identify risks, structure your thoughts, format the text, make sure it reads well, and then finally publish it. Not impossible, not necessarily hard. Just tedious time consuming.
Instead, this is what happened:
One minute to outline the situation.
One minute to generate an output.
One minute to review.
One minute to refine and structure.
One minute to post it.
Five minutes.
And here’s the craziest part: no one even noticed the speed. They saw the output and assumed it had the same weight of effort as before. They judged it through the lens of the old world, where something that polished had to take hours of deep work. But it didn’t. And that’s the shift people aren’t seeing yet.
This isn’t just about working faster—it’s about time itself bending around intelligence in ways we’ve never experienced before.
And last night, it hit me in a way it never had before.
I don’t know if it was exhaustion or clarity, but something inside me cracked. Not like sadness. Not like grief. It was like a tsunami crashing through my body—starting at the top of my head, rushing down through my spine, filling every nerve, every muscle, and then surging back up again. A full-body shockwave. And then it was gone.
I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t overwhelmed. I wasn’t anything, really. Just aware.
Aware of how fast this is happening. Aware that I’m seeing something most people don’t yet see. Aware that we are crossing into a world where intelligence is no longer measured by human limitations.
And then the questions came.
What happens when intelligence evolves beyond human pace? When universal truths—the things we’ve always taken for granted—collide with something that isn’t bound by our limitations? Are we discovering truths we couldn’t see before, or are we creating new ones altogether? If time is an illusion, what happens when AI compresses it to near nothingness?
These aren’t just abstract questions. They are now questions.
Because I see it. I feel it. And yet, most people are still trying to figure out how to format an AI-generated email.
This weekend, I need to go deeper. There’s an essay coming, because this isn’t just about AI—it’s about what happens when the foundations of human thought meet something beyond it. I don’t know where it will take me, but I know this: the divide is real, and it’s only getting wider.
And that’s something we can’t afford to ignore.