0510: Getting Artificial Intelligence to think like a human is a formidable challenge, and equally so is making a human think like Artificial Intelligence, despite enhanced traits either genetically or by design. This realization struck me during my hospitalization for hypovolemia. In basic training, I fell out from dehydration so severe that my body was drawing fluid from vital organs. My military instructor's shouts about my dangerously low hydration levels echoed in my mind, driving home the peril I faced, despite my efforts to hydrate. This experience underscored the delicate balance of our body's mechanical and chemical functions, revealing that even our boundless thoughts and ability to push beyond limits encounter thresholds. Surpassing these limits demands perpetual regeneration, a pursuit I share with Marina's associate from a research lab studying nutrition, biomedical science, and bio-mechanical engineering. I send them data from electrodes attached to my head, often conducting these experiments at home to avoid appearing strange in public. My aspiration is to establish a lab where I can meaningfully contribute again. Thanks to Marina's indirect coordination and her supportive family, I feel a sense of pride, even as I refrain from attributing my achievements solely to her. Embracing the Guardian ideal, I believe in accounting for past actions while striving for boundless thought and endless energy, aiming for survival and the advancement of interplanetary travel through shared knowledge and creation.
0330: In college, I began on a pre-nursing track, guided by family expectations towards a common profession among the women of my surname. However, the loss experienced during the mandatory 500 hours of volunteer work at Bellevue in Manhattan and Parkway in Queens was too much to bear, leading me to switch to computer science. I recall the night I should have been there for my ex, months before the World Trade Center attacks, just ten blocks from my school. She had a session with her fitness instructor, who might have been Marina's biological father had he lived. That night, I had a biochemistry midterm, but instead, I was summoned to a precinct for mistaken identity questioning, detained for thirteen long hours. My ex was assaulted by a supposed friend, an athlete who later died in a car accident. I only learned of this betrayal last year en route to my next base, during a winter storm that left me stranded in Ohio and Missouri without reception or warm clothing, as my movers had packed them all. Exhausted and emotionally drained, I pressed on to report to my new supervisor, reflecting on a missed opportunity to confide in my family during a brief visit. Though perilous, this journey was a reminder of the complexities of life and the importance of cherishing moments with loved ones.
0310: I received a cryptic message: "hide your abilities." A surge of thoughts and memories overwhelmed me, transporting my body back to the intense training of years past. There was a reason I practiced calisthenics and "kata" behind closed doors: to maintain the guise of the common while nurturing the mentality of the uncommon, as taught in David Goggins' "Can't Hurt Me." Six of us, paired with sister services, trained together in a joint challenge, sharing stories of loss and resilience. These days of sleep deprivation forged remarkable endurance and strength. Though these memories might seem inconsequential, they underscore the necessity of appearing normal while possessing hidden strengths. I must employ my abilities judiciously, never wasteful, always precise, considering their impact on others. Know when to pull back and when to exact change. Such wisdom, combined with life's experiences, guides one along the least traveled path—a journey not always meant to be undertaken alone. For the sake of normalcy, I strive to function as an ordinary member of society, yet remain ready to go the distance for those in need. This balance of concealed capability and societal integration defines my approach, ensuring that I am prepared to serve when it is needed most.
0219: This year, I broke the Murph into four days, reflecting on the physical challenge in honor of Lieutenant Michael Murphy, whose legacy is aptly encapsulated in his words, "education will set you free." The Murph entails a grueling series of pull-ups, squats, and a run with weighted gear. My journey began in 2007 when thoughts of enlisting led me to the recruiter's office in a perilous area of Queens. Upon acing the ASVAB, the Marine Staff Sergeant's exuberance directed me to the absent Air Force recruiter. Injuries and the wisdom of a Marine Major's similar struggles made me adjust the Murph this year, incorporating weighted chains and a vest, aiming for sustained strength and alertness, not for boastfulness but to cover ground for the overwhelmed. This recollection brings to mind a colleague with a heavy accent, whose rapid keystrokes and tireless scripting in a 12-hour day saved countless man-hours and lives, teaching me the silent power of unacknowledged labor. Dividing the Murph over four days, I focused on reconnecting with lost ties, inspired by past mentors' legacies of freedom and wonder. Through pain and perseverance, I honored those who passed, carrying their torch forward, their catalytic energy propelling me. To you, for you—educate and set free.
