It was this magical moment once again. I saw his face, suddenly changing and his eyes starting to shine with strange, unfamiliar and almost manic fire.His body was flooded by mysterious divine vibration. Everything around him changed. He knew what he had to do. 
He rushed as if that feeling that fulfilled his mind and body, that pleasant tension and vertigo could fade as suddenly as it appeared. His desk was always made up for work so that none of this magical fulfilling moment would be wasted. I watched him. 
I saw his hands, skilfully but gently and gracefully soaking pen in ink and casting unfamiliar and mysterious symbols on paper.  It was a script, a holy language that belonged to angels, god or even satan himself. Now they were speaking through him.  Now he was speaking through them.

Two processes — one logical, slow, conscious, and consistent; the other emotional, impulsive, intuitive, and feeling-based.

Tapyba su dronu

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours talking with a sound engineer from the national studio — he’s going to work on a film for Jokūbas. It was the first time I talked to a sound director in such a creative, director-like way. We spoke purely from a mechanical perspective — about how a person hears sound during psychosis. We’ll be recording low frequencies, the frequencies of objects, the body, organs, the brain, blinking, the stomach, and so on — even electromagnetic waves in general. He has all kinds of microphones for that. Because I never really heard voices — mostly, I experienced frequencies.

“Makes sense,” I said, watching the gears turn behind their eyes. “You’ve told me this before—I remember.” But people still don’t get it.
“They don’t understand,” I continued. “When I explained that we haven’t even replicated a dog’s intelligence yet…” They looked at me like I was speaking in riddles.
“There’s no real AI. Wake up.” “Even a couple years ago,” I added, “Not much has changed.”
“Yep,” they replied. Just that. A single syllable, like a pebble dropped into a deep well.
---
Person X: There’s no such thing as AI. It’s just a marketing term.
Other Person:
Even the Oxford Dictionary includes the term “AI.”
Person X: Sure. And companies can label anything however they want. Call a cheap laptop a “$5000 AI laptop”—who’s going to stop them?
There are old-generation digital devices—no AI, no automation—just pure human control. Like when I draw in Procreate: every stroke is mine. But the moment I generate results, I’m tapping into algorithmic systems that work for me. Same iPad, different reality.
“Oh, I understand,” they replied.
And I want to name that difference. To separate the manual from the machine-assisted. That moment when you switch off Apple Intelligence or AI— What actually changes?
“Interesting,” they said. And it was.
“A boundary appeared,” they said. “Analog digital… or maybe synthetic digital. I don’t know if that’s even a thing. But to me—it is.”
“What is digital?” the other asked. “Analog digital?”
“Digital,” came the reply. “Yeah. I mean, analog is not digital, and digital is not analog—what do you mean?”
The question lingered. Not just about formats or devices, but about perception. Where does one end and the other begin? And what happens in the space between?