Mind to Machine II
“We need more…” A robotic voice echoed in Joonho’s consciousness.
“Come on, man, get your shit together,” Joonho told himself. No one was around him, but he felt like a million people were watching over him. His brain had become a gold mine, potentially large enough to reshape the global economy.
Joonho was anxious to be among the first disciples of a revolution. His hands were trembling. He had never been called “outstanding” in 45 years. His God had finally gifted him the chance to reverse his life. This day could be preserved in scriptures.
He took a piece of paper from his desk and wrote the word “FOCUS.” The nanobot could stay powered for a year. Nothing mattered more than the opportunity right in front of him. He needed to concentrate and climb the fastest path to mastery.
He desired pure, undiluted energy from his brain to fuel the bot. Joonho thought of the time when he and his parents watched a giant rocket launching through the atmosphere. Until the rocket vanished into the universe, his eyes were fixed on the engine fuming fire. Then Joonho realized he had to get rid of everything that was blocking the way to his “enlightenment.”
“Unload and unlearn. Forget about the past for your new journey.” He had heard of this idea at the church the other day. Any distractions could muddle his connection with the bot. He had to throw away all the junk he had never used—TV, couch, cups. So many goddamn cups. All this trash had to be thrown out of his sight.
He stacked all the junk at the front door. His room was almost empty, just a wooden stool and desk. He lay down and gazed at the ceiling. Like the monks who stayed silent for years, Joonho was determined to never speak a word.
The room was dark, damp, and moldy. In sweat, Joonho sat down on the stool and closed his eyes. There was no sound but vibrations. He stared at the imaginary fireworks in front of him. Five minutes later, he was immersed in silence and darkness. A warm breath came out naturally. Then he began to hear hundreds of voices piling on top of each other. He could not discern any words but was able to hear the noise for 15 minutes.
For two weeks, Joonho practiced meditation to declutter his mind. To him, meditation meant transforming into a machine designed to serve a single purpose. Like before downloading a large app on his computer, he wanted to delete enough space in his head. That was the way to be upgraded.
Joonho didn’t speak. He didn’t even check online whether someone was outperforming him. He remained calm. He left the room only when he had to use the bathroom or fetch deliveries.
In love with solitude, he no longer felt the stress to conform to the larger community. He was happier than ever. He stopped reporting to the company and even let go of the yearning to harness the bot. The voices sounded like birds chirping in a rainy forest. He replied to some of these sounds, but it was impossible to fully understand the words coming from afar.
Joonho was grateful for the peace—the feeling that he had completely forgotten about. Everything around him was in harmony. This is it. He was meant to be here.