When neuronets appeared, people began to think of all their actions as artificial. But I wonder if we are ourselves, in the end, just robots living in simulations, algorithms, prohibitions and restrictions.
I wanted to picture a 21st century ordinary little man with his problems and routine.
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Every day starts again.
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Do I even exist?
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Who are all these people?
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Compassion as the only safe way to help
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Failure to get closer
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It’s a good thing I’m independent.
The sun doesn’t shine for everyone.
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Doors leading nowhere
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Cornering, who’s around this corner?
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Failure to get out
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Nowhere to disintegrate a person.
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There’s no way out of this place.
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