I Wrote 12 Lines of Code Instead of a Poem — And It Set Me Free

I used to think winning was about numbers—until I realized the real jackpot wasn’t in the payout, but in the pause.

Every night, after debugging my last React component, I’d sit by my window in Manhattan and write poetry in comments. Not because I had to—but because I wanted to. The machine didn’t give me meaning; I gave it meaning.

They call it ‘gambling’ when you bet on RNGs. I call it ‘rendering’ when you let silence speak. My father played saxophone in Crown Heights; my mother painted murals on our apartment walls. They taught me: beauty isn’t optimized—it’s discovered.

I built an AI that writes poems with nested hooks—not to predict outcomes, but to honor them. Each failed state became a stanza. Each console.log()? A line break with soul.

The system doesn’t owe you freedom. You take it—by choosing when to stop, not how much to win.

In this world of霓虹赛道 and algorithmic gods, I’m not chasing bonuses—I’m composing them.

Try this: Write one line of code today like you’re writing your last poem. Then walk away—and don’t look back.